You Can't Help Who You Love
by becky2102
Summary: A new love interest complicates Olivia's life, but not as much as the return of an old...friend?
1. Chapter 1 The New

_A/N This started out back before the end of the Harry Connick Jr era, but now I'll just shift it over for future chapters for some E/O…._

_Don't own anything, not making money off it, etc…_

Chapter 1

Olivia heaved one last time and then spit into the toilet. She unbent herself from over the toilet groaning as her stiff muscles protested. She stepped to the sink and rinsed her mouth, spat into the sink and then washed her hands. It was the third time she'd vomited that morning. Her stomach felt better now, but if past experience was any indication it wouldn't last long. Smoothing down her short, brown hair and straightening her clothes, she clenched her jaw and headed back to work.

Taking again her position leaning against the edge of her desk she joined the meeting already in progress. Ten minutes later the meeting broke up and her boss walked over to her and said "Go home, Olivia."

"Cap, I'm fine," she said.

"No, Benson, you're green. Go home or I'll make it an order."

"Come on, Liv," Munch added. "You've run to puke your guts out every 45 minutes for the past 4 hours. That gives you..." he looked at his watch, "30 minutes before your stomach rebels again. With a little luck you can be praying to the porcelain god in your apartment and not have to puke in a cab."

She glared at him and when she looked back, Cragen was handing her the scarf and coat she'd thrown on the back of her chair that morning. She took it from him, realizing she was beaten, and grabbed her bag out of her desk drawer. She did feel particularly awful. Munch stood to walk her to the elevator, handing her a soda as they walked. "And drink something," he said. "It will keep you hydrated, plus it will hurt less when you barf again in..." he looked at his watch "25 minutes."

She looked at him curiously. "Hey, I'm old. I've survived my share of stomach bugs. Feel better. Amaro and Fin will be back in an hour. We'll be fine here," he said, depositing her into the elevator.

Twenty minutes later she made it into the bathroom in her apartment just in time. Wiping her mouth as she looked in the mirror she noted the time on the bathroom clock. 'You were off by 5 minutes, John,' she thought. She did have to acknowledge that it did feel better when there was something in her stomach other than just bile."

She padded into the living room and laid down on the couch, finding an old movie on TV. She laid her head down on the throw pillow and tried to ignore her aching muscles and feverish face. She was asleep within minutes.

Back at the precinct, the other detectives continued their work. Fin and Amaro returned as scheduled and they were debating the motive behind a current case over sandwiches when the EADA and a defense attorney assigned to their suspect walked into the squad room.

"Good afternoon, detectives," he announced. "Who is ready to help us make a deal today?" He scanned the room for his audience and couldn't help but feel disappointed when he realized not everyone was there.

"Yeah, I got this one," Amaro said, standing to join the lawyers.

"Wonderful," David Haden said. "Let's get this show on the road. And where is Detective Benson today?" he asked casually to the room.

Fin answered without looking up, "In bed hopefully. Got sent home with e stomach flu."

"Ah, well, that's a shame. Tell her I hope she feels better. Let's go, Detective," he gestured with his arm to Nick and they walked toward the interrogation room where their suspect waited.

"Yeah..." Rollins spoke up, watching them leave the room. "Those two are totally bangin'," she said casually, her Southern twang a little more pronounced than usual.

"Who?" Fin asked.

"Benson and Haden," she replied.

Fin stared at her with an open mouth and Munch had a wicked smirk on his face. "What! What makes you say that?"

"Ah, come on Tutuola, you saw him...Asking after her, that look on his face when he saw he wasn't here. He's smitten and he has that look that says he knows it's not unrequited," Amanda defended her opinion.

"Benson and the EADA?" Munch speculated. "You think she would?" he asked, almost rhetorically.

"Nah," Rollins replied. "I think she already has." They watched David Haden leave the squad room chatting with the defense attorney as Nick reentered the room.

"You're crazy," Fin told her. "No way"

"No way what?" Nick asked, sipping a coffee. "Plea deal is done. That guy is good."

The other detectives nodded in response to that. Munch replied to Nick's question. "Rollins was just explaining to us, in her delicate Southern diction, her belief that your partner and our EADA are participating in a relationship of a physical, intimate nature, or, how did you put it, Rollins? Banging."

Nick almost spit out his coffee. "Benson and Haden? Come on, Rollins. No way. How do you know?"

"Call it woman's intuition. I dunno, but I swear it's true," Rollins said.

Nick looked at her skeptically. Munch looked altogether too amused and Fin was shaking his head in disbelief.

"You guys don't believe me. That's fine. But let me tell you, when Counselor Haden over there comes down with Liv's stomach flu in 24-48 hours, you boys ALL owe me a Coke."

And with that Amanda sat down and went back to work. The others followed, with Nick still shaking his head and grumbling, Amanda thought she heard something about how he didn't want to know about his partner's sex life. She tried to keep her grin to herself over how uncomfortable he was.

Around 6pm Benson was brushing her teeth for what seemed like the hundredth time that day when she heard a knock at her door. She sighed to herself. In a previous life she would have known it was Elliot coming to check on her. Not anymore. Nick was a good guy, a good partner, but he wasn't Elliot and she doubted he was the type to stop by unannounced just to check on her. Rinsing and spitting, she walked to the door, her arms wrapped around her front in a futile attempt to relieve her aching stomach. Looking through the peephole, she was surprised to see David Haden at her door.

Unlocking the chain, she opened the door quietly for him and gave him a slight smile, self-conscious or her looks. She knew she was not at her best, but hoped the overall effect wasn't too bad.

"David! How did you get up here?" she asked quietly. Her voice couldn't hide the lack of energy she obviously felt.

"I talked my way past your doorman. He's an old softy. Says he hopes you feel better." She raised a single eyebrow at him. "A little bird told me you were sick. I brought you some ginger ale and some chicken soup." He grinned at her, a little proud of himself.

She returned his look almost shyly and opened the door to let him in. "Katz's Matzo Ball Soup," he was saying, heading into her kitchen. "Best in the city."

"Have you not been to Zabar's? You are mistaken." Sick as she may be, she was still a New Yorker and those were fighting words.

"Too far uptown," he replied. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I've spent a good portion of my day hanging over the toilet." She eyed the soup suspiciously as her poured some into an oversized mug. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said. "Plus, I'm probably infectious or something, you might want to run for the hills."

"I'll be fine," he said, pulling her towards the couch. She sat down and she sipped at the soup slowly. Her stomach felt fine for the time being, but she had another 40 minutes to find out how good the soup really was. She drank half of what was in the mug, leaving what at any other time would have been a delicious looking matzo ball in the bottom. She set the mug on the coffee table and leaned back down to put her head back on the pillow. David was sitting at the other end of the sofa, telling her quietly the nonsense of the day that didn't require much thought or response from her. She tucked her bare feet in the space between the small of his back and the sofa cushion and gave him a small smile as she closed her eyes. "Thanks, David," she murmured softly.

He reached down and pulled her feet into his lap, rubbing her ankles gently. They both halfway turned their attention to the old Hitchcock movie on the TV and didn't say anything more.

Olivia had her eyes closed, but she wasn't sleeping. She was relishing the comfort of lying down and the warm, smoothly, repetitive motion of his hand on her ankle and lower leg. Without even noticing, or maybe only half noticing and not caring, his hand began to creep a higher and higher up her leg. Olivia turned her head into the pillow and moaned softly. It felt so good. As she felt his hand venturing to her knee, she opened one eye and looked at him.

"If you keep on that path, I'm going to get _interested_. And getting _interested _means I will want to move and if I move there is a very good chance I will throw up on you, so think very carefully about your choice of action here, Haden," she said, not moving a muscle.

His hand stilled and moved back down to her ankle. "Understood, Detective."

An hour later, Olivia had drifted to sleep. Her feet still on his on his lap, he reached down and quietly pulled out some work briefs. They sat that way for another 45 minutes until Olivia sat up suddenly. Bent over with her elbows on her knees, head in her hands, she didn't move for a minute. He was just about to ask if she needed anything when she bolted into the bathroom. Emptying the contents of her stomach yet again, she groaned inwardly when she heard David calling to her from outside the door. Reassuring him that she was fine, her stomach clenched again, but brought nothing up. Her stomach muscles ached from the repeated clenching.

After yet another swish and spit and tooth brushing, she stumbled back out to the living room. She sat back down of the couch and David handed her a glass of ginger ale with ice. "Drink it," he ordered. "Slowly. It'll help."

She looked at him as if he himself had invented the stomach flu just to plague her, but she sipped at the cool, carbonated drink and the laid back down. "I think that was the longest stretch yet between puking. I must be on the mend," she said sarcastically. He patted her leg and went back to his briefs as she tried to fall back asleep.

An hour later, she awoke to him pulling her up off the couch. Trying to figure out what he was doing, she pulled back from him. "Don't even think about trying to carry me, Haden. I can walk."

He stopped fighting her and said "Allright, why don't you walk yourself into the bedroom and get into the bed then." She gave him a smirk and hauled herself up. She was questioning her stomach but so far it seemed okay. She definitely felt less flushed and fevered. She walked slowly into the bedroom wondering what Haden was going to do, stay or go. Shrugging out of her top and wiggling down her pants, she rooted around in a drawer for something more comfortable to sleep in.

In only white lace bra and underwear, she was standing at the dresser when she heard a noise from the door. She looked up to see David standing sheepishly in the door with a glass of water. He had been appreciating her figure and wished she'd given him some more time before noticing him. She had some dangerous curves. He wondered how she managed to look even halfway respectable in clothes, because naked she was ravishing. He didn't say anything but had the decency to look awkward.

"It's okay, D. You certainly have seen me in more awkward situations than this." She gave him a slightly wicked grin.

He grinned back, his was certainly more wicked than hers, remembering the last time he'd been in her bedroom. Sensing she was feeling a little better, he walked in the room and set the glass down on the dresser. He lifted her slightly damp hair of the back of her neck and kissed her right at the hairline. She gave an involuntary shiver and then grabbed the tank top and pants she meant to slide on.

He sat on the bed waiting for her. "You want me to stay or go?" he asked as she climbed into the bed and settled in.

"Well, I don't mind if you stay, but I don't want to get you sick..." she said hesitantly.

"Hey, don't worry about me. We Haden men have stomachs of steel." She snorted at him and turned into the covers.

"Good, but don't say I didn't try to warn you off" she said. He patted her shoulder and returned to the living room and his briefs. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was just past 9:30. He could get a couple more hours of work done yet tonight.

Just as he was about ready to pack it in a few hours later, he heard noises from the bedroom. He got up to investigate and caught just the backside of Olivia running into the bathroom. Grimacing as he heard her getting sick, he grabbed the water glass from earlier and went into the kitchen. Returning just as she was exiting the bathroom, he asked "Water or ginger ale?"

"Hmm, water I think. Thanks." she took the water and took a few sips then climbed into the bed. He sat down next to her, above the covers and started sorting through some emails on his phone.

Waking slowly the next morning just as the sun was shining through the east-facing window, she saw David was gone, but as she regained her senses she heard the water running. Coming out of the bathroom with a damp face and damp hands, he said "Hey! You're awake! How're you feeling?"

She thought for a minute, thinking briefly if she had to think about it, she was probably feeling better. "Not too bad. What time is it?"

"Just past 7." he squinted his eyes at her. "You're not thinking about going to work this morning are you?"

She shrugged. "It's been about 8 hours since I've gotten sick. I can handle work I think."

"If you think so..." he said, obviously disagreeing.

"Go to work, Haden. Don't be late on my account." She tossed his shirt at him from where it sat on the end of the bed as she walked into the bathroom.

He grabbed her wrist gently as she passed and pulled her into an embrace. Kissing her gently on the forehead he said "Have a good day. Take it easy, huh? I'll call you later." He pulled on his shirt on his way to the living room.

She smiled at him. "Yeah, okay..." she replied and headed in the bathroom for a shower, stomach a little sore but no longer queasy.

In the other room, David grabbed a quick glass of her orange juice before heading out the door. She saw a couple of photos tacked on the fridge with magnets from local delivery joints. One was of Olivia, Fin, John Munch and other man he didn't know. The other was of just Olivia and this other man. David guessed he was also a cop. Wondering what had happened to him and why Olivia had never mentioned him, he filed the information and the face away in the back of his mind and headed out the door.

Olivia made it through the day at work. Her colleagues were only faintly surprised to see her. Only Nick gave her a hard time; the others were only surprised she hadn't beaten them into work.

Wednesday morning dawned with a new case sending them down to the ME's office first thing. She went with Fin, while Munch and Nick were downtown meeting with the DA's office for trial prep. Getting back mid-morning, she was surprised when they ran into John and Nick in the hallway. Nick was grumbling as he bought a soda from the vending machine in the hallway. Munch was already holding one. "I don't know why this machine never eats anyone else's money?" he complained as he fished another quarter out of his pocket.

"You just have to learn the trick, Oh Young One," Munch said, as he gave the machine a bump with his hip and Nick was rewarded with a cold Coke.

"What happened to trial prep?" Olivia asked. "Must've been a easy one," she said, looking at her watch.

"Nah," Munch replied as they walked into the squadroom. Rollins was already at her desk. "Had to be rescheduled. EADA is out with some stomach bug." He sauntered around slowly and placed the Coke on Amanda's desk, casually, not making any obvious movements. Olivia kept her face blank as she processed that. 'Ha, poor David,' she thought.

"Lucky you," Amanda replied disinterestedly as Nick placed his soda on her desk as well. Olivia was sitting at her desk, but happened to catch the expectant look Amanda was giving Fin as he sat down. "Must be going around," Amanda said.

Wondering what she had missed, Olivia looked from Rollins to Fin, neither of them giving anything away. She shrugged and turned back to her desk, pulling up her email to send a message to one miserable, she was sure, EADA. Fin gave a disparaging look to Rollins and left the squadroom. Nick was studying Olivia to see if she had any reaction and not finding one he went to work with Munch. Glancing up briefly when she noticed Fin come back, she set down her pen as he too set a bottle of Coke on Rollins' desk. Amanda didn't look up, but replied "Thanks, Fin."

"Okay," Olivia demanded. "What did I miss?"

Rollins looked up with an entirely too innocent look on her face. Olivia suddenly realized that Fin and Munch had silently left the room, wanting to avoid the answer, leaving Nick alone with the two women. The two older detectives knew Olivia's temper, even if Nick hadn't figured it out yet.

"Nothing, Liv, just an old wager from a few days ago." Rollins replied, knowing she was dead meat.

"Uh huh, so why did the guys just run out of here like there was a fire?" Olivia pressed.

"Um, Olivia, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to... I didn't intend...I just opened my big mouth..." She stopped and pressed her lips together not knowing how to go on.

"Amanda, what did you do?" she demanded again.

The blond detective grimaced and said "I might have told the guys that I thought you were sleeping with Haden."

"What?"

"I believe the correct word that she used was 'banging'" Nick added, earning a very, very black look from Olivia. Now he understood why the other detectives had left. They knew what was coming. He quietly backed off into the other as Olivia turned her attention back to Amanda, dark eyes shooting sparks.

"Why would you even think such a thing?" she hissed at the blond. Olivia was relieved that the room was empty except for them.

"My mouth just got ahead of me, and I didn't think they'd make such a big deal out of it. I mean, they don't know for sure, just a suspicion."

"And you?" the older detective demanded. "You know for sure?"

'In for a penny, in for a pound,' Amanda thought. "We'll, I don't have proof, but yeah, I'd say I know for sure." She kept her voice low.

"Why do you think that?" Olivia asked, matching her low tone, careful not to give anything away.

"You should've seen the look he gave when he saw you weren't here on Monday. It was like a little kid who had his toy taken away. I've seen that look on men before, Benson. I'm not a simpleton. I'm sorry I opened my big mouth. I don't think anyone else has any idea."

Olivia eyed he other detective closely and straightened her shoulders. "Any idea about what, Detective?" she asked coyly, turning back to her desk. Internally she was swearing, but at least she could keep SOME sense of decorum while they sorted out this mess.

Amanda's eyebrows hit the roof. She tilted her head. 'Playing that close to her chest,' she thought. She didn't say another word, but turned back to her own desk.

About 15 minutes passed. Nick had quietly made his way back. Fin and Munch still hadn't come out of whatever hole they were hiding in. Cragen walked slowly out of his office.

"We have a new case, transferred from Homicide." He handed the file to Nick, saying "You two are catching."

He stepped over to Rollins' and set a can of Coke firmly down on her desk. "Don't ever assume I don't know what's going on in my precinct, Detective." Then in a lighter tone said, "Benson, my office if you have a minute." He turned and walked back towards his office without another word.

Rollins' head shot up and she looked at Olivia with wide, panicked eyes.

"Relax, Rollins. I am positive it's not about whatever you are afraid it's about." 'Let them keep guessing,' she thought. 'The longer this stays a question and not a fact, the better.'

Olivia stood and said "Figure out where we need to go, Nick. I'll be right back." She strode into the Captain's office with a confidence that belied her nerves.

Knocking quietly and then opening the door a crack, Cragen waved her in.

"Olivia, sit down." He offered her a chair. "Did I ever tell you about how I met my wife?" he asked casually.

Instantly confused, she wondered if her boss had gone off his rocker. "Captain, the case...I need to..."

He interrupted her. "Sit down, Detective. That wasn't a suggestion."

Not saying another word, Olivia quickly sat.

Cragen went on "I met Marge in 1961. She worked as an Evidence Clerk down at 1PP. It was her first job out of college."

"I thought she was a librarian," Olivia said, wondering what the hell he was getting at. She had work to do, IMPORTANT work.

"She was, but not until later. See, in 1961 there were very strict rules, and punishments, for fraternization. By going out with me, we were both risking our jobs. I probably wouldn't have been fired, just reprimanded, but she probably would have been if they had found out. The NYPD was not exactly an Equal Opportunity Employer back in those days. When I asked her to marry me, she found a different job. We went down to the court house the day she got hired at the Chelsea Branch of the New York Public Library."

Still baffled, but letting him go one, Olivia shifted in her seat. As if remembering she was there all of a sudden, leaned over and handed her a couple of sheets of paper with a lot of writing on it. "That," he said, "Is a copy of the official NYPD policy regarding personal relationships and conflicts of interest. The rules aren't so strict as they used to be, but there are still RULES, Detective." He looked at her pointedly. She didn't give anything away on her face. "This," he handed her a manila envelope, holds a Personal Disclosure Form. You go read them and decide if you need to give that back to me. Understood?"

"Ah, yes...Sir. Are we done?" she asked, standing to leave.

"Yes, we're done. And Olivia?" she stopped and looked back at him. "Remember sometimes you can't help who you love." He looked her in the eye and she thought she understood THAT part of the conversation came from Don, her friend, not her boss.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Neither Amanda or the guys brought up the wager, although the Cokes lining Amanda's desk were hard to miss. It was late but not too late by the time they headed home. Olivia glanced at her watch as she grabbed a cab. If she was lucky she would catch Zabar's before they closed. Twenty minutes later, purchases in hand, she grabbed a second cab downtown and pulled out the papers Cragen had given her earlier. Skimming them and then going back through and reading it more carefully, she sighed. It wasn't impossible, but it certainly involving a lot of people in her personal life that she didn't think deserved to know about her personal life. Exiting the cab in front of a new Lower East Side condo building she approached the doorman.

A few minutes later she was knocking on David Haden's front door. After a short wait she heard footsteps and then heard the security chain slide back. The door swung open to reveal a very haggard looking EADA.

"Wasn't expecting you, Olivia," he said with a smile, opening the door for you. "How'd you get past Vinnie?"

She lifted an eyebrow, "You're not the only one who can charm their way past a doorman."

"Yeah, but my doorman..." he trailed off.

"What? Works in a fancier building than mine. That's true, but I have a nicer ass than you."

He grinned at that "Hey, I have a nice ass."

"Well, I think so, but I don't know what Vinnie thinks of it. " she said simply. She held up the bag she was holding. "I brought you soup, thought I would return the favor. Also, give you a chance to experience real soup from Zabar's."

"Hmmph" he replied. She looked at him, he obviously hadn't shaved that day, more than a five o'clock shadow on his face, his shirt was rumpled, his eyes we're droopy and a little bit dull. She rummaged around his kitchen and found a bowl.

"Did I look as a bad as you when I was sick?" she asked him.

"No, of course not, you are the picture of beauty and poise at all times," he answered.

She tilted her head. "Good answer, but I know a lie when I hear one. How're you feeling?"

"About how I imagined you felt two days ago, but more manly." She snorted at that.

They sat on the couch. He was slumped in the corner, she sat at the other end, back to the arm rest.

"What?" he asked her. He could tell something was going on. "Spill the beans detective."

"The jig is up, Haden. We need to decide what we are going to do."


	2. Chapter 2 The Jig Is Up

_"The jig is up, Haden. We need to decide what we are going to do."_

You Can't Help Who You Love

Chapter 2

"What do you mean the jig is up?"

"I work with Detectives, David. Good ones. Very good ones. Rollins put it together."

"What? How?"

"Not quite sure, something about the look you had on your face when I wasn't there on Monday," she said.

"Oh, so it's my fault?" he asked jokingly.

"This isn't funny, Haden. Our jobs are at stake." She tossed the papers Cragen had given her at him. "Cragen knows, but I get the feeling he's not totally unsympathetic."

He glanced over the papers, getting the jist of them. "Cragen gave you these?" She nodded. "Okay, so what do you want to do?"

She sighed. "I dunno. It's less that I don't want them to know and more that I hate the fact that they have to know."

"So who exactly needs to know?" he asked.

"On my end, I think just Cragen and then he decides who above him needs to know. What about on yours?"

"Well, the DA certainly, and probably the Chief Administrator, but certainly not the ranks."

"There's not chance that this won't become public," she said, obviously depressed at the thought.

"That's true, but that will happen as it happens. We only need to worry about the ethical obligations." His statement exuded the confidence that made him such a good lawyer.

"So you think we should do this." She didn't know if that was a question or a statement.

"I think I want to be with you, and if this is what it takes, then yeah, I think we should," he said.

She didn't say anything in response. She was a little surprised at how quickly he had decided it was worth it, that she was worth it.

"What, you don't?" he looked up in surprise.

"No," she said slowly. "It's not that. I'm just a little surprised."

"Surprised at what?"

She thought for a moment before she spoke. She didn't want to screw this up. "Surprised at how quickly you decided it was worth it."

Now it was his turn to be surprised. "You thought I wouldn't want to? That I was only interested in dating you if no one knew about it? Give me little more credit than that, Olivia."

"No, that wasn't what I meant, I mean, you have a great career and fairly public position, one that the public or the media won't hesitate to comment on and you didn't seem to think that much on it."

"Think a lot about what? About our relationship?" he said. "That I certainly have. About being forced to declare it? Yeah, that bothers me. About whether or not I think anyone will JUDGE me over this? No, not for a minute, because it doesn't matter."

He looked at her across the sofa. His head was pounding and despite his brave front, his stomach was much more queasy than he was letting on. He leaned over and set the mug of soup on the table. She was watching him, sympathizing and being slightly amused how hard he was trying to hide it.

"Go puke your guts out, Haden. This conversation will still be here when you're done…"

He gave her a grateful look and practically ran for the bathroom. She sat on the couch and ate her soup and tried very hard not to hear what was going on in the bathroom. 'Nothing like the stomach flu to bring two people together,' she thought. Her career had taught her a thing or two about having a strong stomach and she continued to eat her soup as if nothing was wrong.

A few minutes later he stumbled back into the living room with a green look on his face. He flopped back on to the sofa. Olivia raised one eyebrow at him. "Feeling better?"

"Uhhhhgghhhhhhh" he mumbled, leaning his head back.

"What happened to stomachs of steel, Mr. Haden?"

"I may have been making that part up. The rest I swear was true."

She passed him a bottle of the ginger ale she'd brought along with the soup and he took it gratefully. He took a couple of small sips.

"So, where were we? Ah, yes, you were trying to convince me, for some reason, that I really didn't want to _send a memo_ that says we want to have a personal, romantic relationship with each other." He paused to take another sip; she sat at the end of the couch still unmoving.

"Why don't you want to do this, Olivia?" he asked.

"I didn't say I didn't want to," she rebutted.

"So what are we arguing about?" he asked, slowly sipping his ginger ale.

She opened her mouth to reply but realized she didn't have a good answer. She waited a moment before speaking. David didn't push, letting her sort out her thoughts.

"I want to be with you, David, and if this is what it takes, fine. I just think that…I just worry that…" She stopped herself midthought, she really didn't want to have this discussion now, or at all really.

"You're worried about what, Olivia?" he cajoled her.

She thought about her exit strategy. Her coat was behind her on the couch, her bag was on the table in the entry hallway, she could be up and out the door quickly when things got hairy. She thought all these things unconsciously, without thinking why she needed to know how quickly she could get out.

She was standing all of a sudden, pacing a few steps in either direction. David was sitting on the other end of the couch pretending not to be surprised by how upset she had gotten so quickly. She was complicated and he liked that about her, it made her infinitely more interesting to be around. She made him think about things that he had never considered before; she made him appreciate a different perspective. He did wish though that she would talk about things more often.

"Olivia!" His words were sharp, wanting to burst her out of whatever universe she was stuck in. "Spit it out."

"I'm worried about what will happen when you change your mind. When you start to regret it. Right now it won't matter but if we do this it will be that much worse."

"Why would I change my mind? Why are you convinced that I am going to regret this? Have I given you any indication that I am going to? That I am not serious about this? Have I?"

"No…" she said it hesitantly, not wanting to admit she wasn't right.

He interrupted her before she could go on. "Then why are you so convinced I'm going to regret being with you? WHAT is your problem?"

She liked David a lot. A lot. But the work situation was complicating things. She and David got along so well sometimes she forgot how little he knew about her. They fell in sync so easily that she forgot how new this relationship was. She wasn't ready to open herself, with all her past tragedies, to this man and she REFUSED to be forced into it.

"Look, lets talk about this later, Haden. I should let you get some rest. You don't need to decide this right this second." She stood and went to grab her things.

Before he even knew what was happening she had grabbed her coat and bag was headed for the door. Her words echoed in his mind. _'You_ don't need to decide…" He wondered why she was making this all about his decision.

He jumped up, anxious to catch her before she actually ran out the door. His head hurt with the sudden movement, but he caught her at the entry table where she was fumbling with her bag.

"Hey, Benson." He grabbed for her arm. "Hey." She stilled instantly but didn't look at him. "You're right, we don't need to decide this now. Do you have to go?"

"Yeah, David. I'll call you tomorrow." She slowly removed his hand from her arm. She looked up at his and gave him a small, closed lip smile. Then she opened the door and walked out.

She made it all the way inside the elevator before she let out her breath. She thought 'If he didn't regret having a relationship with her now, he would soon anyway. Better now than later.'

o o o o o o o o o o o o o

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	3. Chapter 3 The Decision

_She made it all the way inside the elevator before she let out her breath. She thought 'If he didn't regret having a relationship with her now, he would soon anyway. Better now than later.'_

You Can't Help – Chapter 3

David Haden was standing in his kitchen. He was standing with an empty glass of water, thinking about what had just happened. He wasn't sure, but he thought that his girlfriend had just run out of his apartment in the middle of a fight. Was it a fight? An argument? A discussion? What was she thinking? His head was pounding and trying to think about this made it worse. Maybe she was right and this _was_ the wrong time for this argument. He refilled the glass and downed two Tylenol and turned toward the bedroom. He would deal with this, convince her, but not tonight.

Uptown in a taxi, Olivia was leaning with her head against the glass. She knew the window was probably dirty, but she didn't care. The glass felt cool on her forehead. What the hell was she thinking? She couldn't date a public figure. Her job was in conflict with his. She was toxic. She really liked David, she couldn't do this to him. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She thought about the string of failed relationships she'd had recently. None of them could stick it out; she knew David wouldn't either. There were just too many things stacked against them.

He was going to want an explanation. She owed him one, but she didn't want to tell him all her dirty secrets, her unfortunate past. She hoped he would just take what she said at face value, but inside she knew he wouldn't. He, in his ignorance, thought she was great and he wasn't one to be told he was wrong without a fight.

Entering her apartment, she dumped her bag on the counter and reached into the fridge for some water. She happened to glance at the photographs she had on the fridge. She saw her friends and she saw Elliot. 'Damn Elliot,' she thought. She wondered if he had any idea what his disappearing act had done to her. 'Better or worse, my ass,' she thought.

She would kill for a whiskey right now, but she didn't quite trust her still recovering stomach. She'd have to settle for water. Returning the glass to the kitchen, she saw the photos on her refrigerator again. Reaching to grab them with the same hand that held the glass, she pulled first one photo and then the other off the fridge, knocking the magnets off in the process. She tried to recover and the glass slipped out of her hand and shattered into a million pieces on the floor. She sighed and bent to pick up the pieces. As she did so, she jumped when her cell phone buzzed in her back pocket, knocking her out of her trance and causing her to slip and cut her thumb on a large shard of glass. It bled immediately; a couple of drops of blood fell onto the floor and a couple onto the photographs before she could get to the sink. Swearing under her breath, she ran her cut thumb under the water. She glanced back at the kitchen. What a mess. Her kitchen floor and herself. "Damn you, Elliot," she said out loud.

She bandaged her thumb, best she could and finished cleaning up her kitchen. She collapsed onto her couch. She awoke several hours later, her thumb throbbing and her back aching from sleeping on the couch. She stumbled into her bedroom and into bed, where she lay awake staring at the ceiling. She remembered the message she'd received earlier and had ignored in the interest of not bleeding on her phone at the time. She rolled over and grabbed her phone. The time on the front read 1230am. She flipped it open and read the message.

"Thanks for the soup. Talk to you tomorrow." From: David.

She sighed and flopped onto her back. Sleep was clearly out of the picture tonight. Between the throbbing of her thumb and the chaos in her mind, she'd be lucky to catch a couple of hours.

Just as she'd thought, she'd walked into work the next morning with a large coffee in her bandaged hand and less than three hours sleep. She got some ribbing about her lack of coordination from the other detectives, which she played off.

In the early evening, just as things were closing down, Olivia noticed she was alone in the squadroom. Picking up her phone, she made the call she'd been avoiding all day.

"Hey there," the voice on the other end answered. "I was starting to worry that you weren't going to call."

"Hey, I follow through when I say I'm going to do something," she said, allowing the smile to come through on her voice.

"So I figure I am 99% recovered from whatever nasty bug that was. Meet me for dinner tonight?"

"Sure. I…I'd like that. What time?" she stammered. 'Damn it,' she thought, 'what happened to resolve?'

"8pm, Indian place on East 8th," he said.

"East 8th? You're going to need to be more specific than an Indian place on East 8th street…"

"Between A and B. I'll text you the address. See you then." He hung up the phone with a smile on his face, which she could hear in his voice.

Olivia smiled softly to herself as she turned back to her work to try and get out of work at a reasonable time. Unbeknownst to her, Fin had entered the room and caught the tail end of her phone call. As he walked past her desk on the way to his own, he bent down and said so only she could hear, "East 8th St? I didn't know our EADA had such a liking for ethnic cuisine…" Before she could deny it, he was standing and walking away. The best she could manage was a swat with one of the files on her desk.

About an hour later, Rollins and Amaro had gone home, the captains was ensconced in his office with the door closed, leaving only Fin and Olivia in the open squadroom. Olivia took one last drink from her water bottle and walked over to Fin.

Without preamble, she said "Look, Fin. I need to know if this is going to be a thing." She rightly assumed that he knew what she was talking about.

He was a little surprised she'd come out and said anything about it, but he figured if it was true she wouldn't be able to get away with vehement denial. "Hey, it ain't a problem for me, baby girl. As long as it doesn't cause drama at work, I don't give a rat's ass who you are uh, 'banging.'"

"Oh my god," Olivia exclaimed, rubbing her eyes with her hands. The last thing she wanted was to have a conversation about her sex life with Fin Tutuola.

"Hey," Fin said quietly, "I'm sorry, Liv. I didn't mean it like that. Look, you deserve to be happy, if he makes you happy you won't hear a peep outta me."

She gave him a faint smile, "Okay…Thanks," she said in a small voice

"Hey, next time though," he replied, "Give me a heads up. I hate losing bets to my partner."

"Ha, you'd never know that considering how many you lost with John Munch over the years…"

"Get outta here, Benson. Go eat curry with your lawyer friend." He waved her off.

Before moving, she said "Hey, Fin?"

"Yeah, Benson?"

"Do me a favor and don't let the others know I told you. Even Amanda still doesn't know for sure…"

"My lips are sealed. Go!" he said.

She went.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

She was only a few minutes late to meet David, but he was already there, tucked into a corner booth with seat cushion and a sunken table. It was a traditional Indian restaurant, no menus and multiple courses of vegetarian cuisine. The wait staff set down drinks and some delicate puffed rice snack things for them to eat while they waited.

"Did you purposely pick the restaurant and table that would make it most difficult for me to run away from?" she asked, only half-joking.

He lifted one eyebrow at her. "Law School 101 – Know your opponent."

"So we're opponents now, are we?"

"You tell me."

She slid without further comment into the booth at a right angle to him, their knees bumped in the small space. She pulled back in surprise, but he moved his leg back over towards her so they were flush.

"I wanted to apologize for the other night, D. I shouldn't have run out like that, especially considering you were sick. I was just a little gun shy and I didn't know how to tell you that…" She stopped speaking, which gave him a chance to reply as their first course showed up.

"Hey, don't worry about the other night. Now. Why don't you tell me what was really bothering you?" he said kindly, but firmly.

She looked up into the corner of the room. "Before we jump headfirst into this and start issuing memos and declarations, I just wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"Hey, I know what I'm getting into…and I _like_ it." He grinned at her, leaning towards her a little.

"No, David. I mean it. You should know, before…"

"Before….?" He wasn't following her train of thought.

"David, haven't you ever wondered why I'm 40 and still single? I have a horrible track record with relationships, my job makes things practically impossible to have a reasonable social life, I run when things get tough. No one ever sticks around when they figure me out. I'm toxic. The one guy who really understood me left without a word, even he didn't think…I just… I just want you to know that I am probably no good for you, so before you go jeopardizing your career, you should really think about it."

When she was finished she glanced at him and met his eyes, which were still trained on her face, a look of surprise and concern on his. Then she looked away. She felt as if she were sitting naked in front of him.

"Olivia, I have thought about this, a lot. Don't think I make decisions regarding my life cavalierly. You Olivia, you think that all the things that happen to you, happen because you deserve them."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "No, listen a minute. You're a strong person. I don't know the details, but I think you had a relatively difficult childhood. You adapted, you learned, and survived and decided that you weren't going to be faced with a challenge you couldn't overcome. And because you were so successful at doing so, you accepted that whatever people threw at you, whatever happened to you, it was what you deserved, what you had earned. When in reality, in reality Liv, you deserve WAY more than you have been given."

"And I don't think you are toxic. Whatever had happened to you in the past, that is past. Don't accuse me of running before I've had the chance to prove I won't. Now," he pulled out the papers from his briefcase next to him and set them on the table, "I'm in if you're in. And remember, this is just a memo, not a life sentence."

She met his eye. Being emotionally naked in front of someone was WAY more difficult that being physically naked in front of someone.

They enjoyed the rest of their dinner. One their way home, they stopped at a wine bar and splurged on a bottle of champagne to celebrate the "signing of the memo" as they had taken to calling it. As they were pouring the dregs of the bottle, sitting close together at the bar, David turned to Olivia as asked "Hey, the guy you mentioned who understood everything about you, who was he?"

He felt her body still, as if every individual muscle was frozen, but she didn't pull away from him. She took another drink of champagne and bit the corner of her lip. "My partner," she said, then corrected herself, "My former partner."

"At work? The guy before Amaro?" David asked innocently. She wished he would leave the topic be, but she also knew needed to tell him sooner or later.

"Yeah," she said, "Before Amaro."

"Where'd he go?" he asked.

"He quit," she replied. "There was this case, a bad case and he quit. David, it's not that I don't want to tell you about it, but not tonight, I want to think of better things tonight."

"Okay, no problem," he said, and shifted the conversation back to something mundane, even as he was remembering the photographs on her fridge. They'd looked happy in the photo, like they fit together; it must've been a really bad case.

They finished their drinks and as they headed back towards Olivia's apartment, David pulled her against a building and kissed her suddenly.

Reciprocating willingly, then remembering where they were, Olivia pulled back and said "What ARE you doing?"

"Hey, tomorrow everything becomes regulated, we have one last night of our secret, illicit relationship. Let's make the most of it…" he bent down to kiss her again.

"Right here on 57th St? Let's go home instead." She dragged him towards a taxi.

"Whatever you say," he said, letting her drag him by the hand.

Inside her apartment a few minutes later, she tossed down her bag, her mail, her coat and then turned back towards her date. He pulled her towards him, his hand snaking inside her shirt and up her back, feeling her soft warm skin and muscles moving tightly underneath. She untucked his shirt and ran her hands over his back as he moved to kiss her neck, trailing kisses up to her jawline. Forcing himself to pull his hands away from her, he pulled his shirt and undershirt over his head in one move and then turned his focus to her shirt. Successfully managing to get it off of her, he pulled her close, feeling her flat abdomen arching into him, her breasts pressed as close as they could get into his chest. He pulled her towards the bedroom, dropping articles of clothing as they went. She couldn't get close enough to him. It was as if the sensation of touching him was water and she was starving in the desert. He bent down and took his mouth in hers as if he felt the same way and they tumbled onto the bed.

Her alarm when off at 6:30 the next morning and she groaned as she leaned over to turn it off. She leaned back into the prone form on her bed. He opened one eye and looked at her. "I suppose we should be thankful that it was the alarm and not a frantic page in the middle of the night…" he said, closing his eyes and pulling her towards him. She pushed herself up and looked down on him, then kissed him right on the forehead and rolled out of bed. "I'm going for a run. I'll be back in 30 minutes, you'll still be here?"

"Run? You're crazy. You could be sleeping right now…" He waved her off as she grabbed her runners.

Four miles later and exactly 29 minutes later, she was jogging up the stairs to her apartment. Letting herself in, she saw David reading the NY Post in her kitchen and drinking a cup of coffee. She eyed him suspiciously. "Did you make that?" she asked.

"Yeah, why? You think I don't know how to make coffee?" he asked.

"No, I just can't remember the last time I bought coffee. I usually get one on the way to work."

He too a sip, "Well, it tastes fine to me. Want a cup?" She shook her head and grabbed a glass of water. Downing the glass quickly, she turned towards the bedroom. "What time do you need to be at work?" she asked, stripping off her outer layer of running gear.

"Not until 8:30…gives us over an hour before I have to leave."

"Well I have to be in by 7:45—" he cut her off.

"Well, then that doesn't give us that much time after all…" He pulled her towards him, tasting the salty sweat on her neck from her run. She pulled him with her towards the bathroom.

"Two birds with one stone," she said, reaching for the shower.

"Brilliant" was his only reply.

At ten to eight, coffee in hand, Olivia walked into the precinct. Greeting the others as always, Nick approached her with a case file and started reviewing what he'd found so far. She nodded, understanding that they were about to head out the door she'd just come in. She glanced over at Cragen's office and said to Nick, "You grab the car, I'll meet you downstairs in 7 minutes." He grabbed the keys and headed downstairs as Olivia headed toward Cragen's office.

She knocked and entered when she heard his gruff reply. She entered and seeing he was on the phone, loitered for a moment in the doorway. He waved her in, he was finishing up a phone call, trying to get rid of the person on the other end. She grabbed the plain manila envelope and placed it on his desk, looking her boss in the eye.

"Fine. Four it is. Bye." He let the phone clack down loudly onto the cradle. He looked at the manila envelope and at his detective. "You're sure?" he asked her.

She shrugged, as if to say 'what am I going to do?' "It is what it is, Cap." She turned to walk out of the office.

"Well done, Detective," was his only reply.


	4. Chapter 4 The Old

You Can't Help…Chapter 4

She'd turned in the disclosure form on a Wednesday. It was now the next Tuesday and no one had said a word about it. She was beginning to think they had gotten all worked up about nothing.

They'd planned on grabbing dinner in the theater district and then grabbing a late movie, but work had gotten in the way again. She and Amaro had been interviewing "persons of interest" regarding a teenage prostitution ring and there was no end in site.

She'd texted David and let him know that plans were off. He said he understood, was going to work late himself in that case, but to let her know when she was done and he'd pickup takeout and meet her at her place.

At 10pm, they finally got all the information they thought they were going to get from one person and were forced by a lawyer to let the other one go. Deciding nothing else could be decided until morning, they called it a night.

Twenty minutes later, David was knocking on her door. She let him in and he bent down to kiss her as if he hadn't seen her in 2 months instead of just two days. Takeout momentarily forgotten, they found themselves sated and naked in her bed 30 minutes later. Keeping his arm around her, he glanced at his watch. "Almost 11pm," he said. "Good thing we live in New York City. Still feel like Chinese?" he asked, throwing on his boxers and heading for the take out menus in the kitchen.

"Absolutely," she replied, reaching for some clothes to throw on. Settling for a camisole and a pair of jeans, she reached for her phone. Dialing the number from memory, which had David raising his eyebrows at her, she placed their order. "Don't judge me, Mr. Haden. I work long hours and I like Chinese food…"

"I wasn't judging," he back-pedaled, I was just appreciating those jeans." She smirked at him as he rolled off of the bed.

"You mind if I take a quick shower?" he asked.

"Not at all," she replied, wandering in to the kitchen for a drink of water.

She was drinking the water, staring at her refrigerator, which looked someone bare without the photographs, when the buzzer went off, startling her. She glanced at her watch and shrugged. 'Good timing tonight,' she thought, grabbing some cash from her wallet to pay the delivery guy. She waited for his knock and then swung the door open only to find Elliot Stabler in front of her door, sheepishly holding a bag of takeout. She saw the delivery guy heading back down the hallway behind him.

She stood there stunned, wordless, cash crumpled in her sweaty hand, now completely forgotten.

Her lack of reaction gave Elliot a chance to study his former partner. It had been over 10 months since he'd seen her. She looked thinner, more toned, her hair was darker and longer. She was flushed, wearing very casual clothes. He could hear the shower on inside her apartment and considering the weight of the food in his hands, (he'd paid the delivery guy himself when he'd run into him outside her apartment) he knew she wasn't alone tonight. He couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside.

Perhaps 30 seconds went by before she gathered her wits about her enough to say or do anything. "Elliot." His name was all she could muster at this point.

Inside her mind, thoughts were racing. Ten months. Ten months he'd been gone without a word. He could've been dead on the side of the road or in the East River and she'd not have known and now he shows up on her doorstep at 11pm on a Tuesday night. She was irate. All the sympathy, all the defensiveness, all the compassion she'd had for him until this very moment disappeared instantly. All she saw now was the man who had abandoned her.

"Hi Olivia." He replied simply. "I, uh, ran into the delivery guy." He gestured simply to the paper bag in his hand.

"The delivery guy." She repeated his words flatly, as if she couldn't think up her own to say.

He was beginning to think she wasn't going to say anything to him. He began. "I, uh-"

She finally found her voice. "What the hell are you doing here, Elliot?" She hissed at him. She would have been yelling but it was 11pm and they were practically in her hallway. She went on "It's been over 10 months! Almost a year, Elliot! You disappear and give me radio silence and then just show up at my door? What the hell were you thinking? Oh, you probably weren't. It was just impossible to use that meathead brain of yours." She was shooting fire at him out of her eyes. She had her arms folding across her chest in a defensive posture, with one leg forward in a slightly aggressive stance. Elliot stood across the threshold from her, arms at his sides, posture open and defenseless, still holding the bag of Chinese food in one hand. "How could you do that, Elliot? How could you? Do you know what I…? Can you imagine…? Do you have any idea what the hell that did to me?" She spit the words out, flung them at him as if they were a whip against him.

"Olivia…Liv…" he began.

"And DON'T call me Liv," she interrupted. She heard the water in the shower turn off; she knew Elliot did too.

"Olivia, you have to know I didn't mean to. I didn't have a choice but to shoot her. You have to believe me." His voice was low and quiet.

She was so angry with him that she almost didn't register his words. When she finally did, she took a step closer to him and said in a barely controlled, slow, deep voice full of emotion, "You prick. You think I am angry with you because you shot that girl? You think I am mad and hurt because of THAT?" Her voice was getting louder and more uncontrolled. "Elliot, anyone of us would have done the same thing. It was a clean shot, we all know that. I'm not angry at you because you shot her, you selfish bastard, now GET OUT!" She gave him a little shove to his chest, grabbing the bag of food from him at the same time. Surprised at the push, he stepped backwards into the hallway. She tossed the crumpled bills she had in her hand at his feet and slammed the door in his face.

She let the bag of food fall out of her hand, landing with a soft thump onto the floor. She stood with her face in her hands and heard David's footsteps approach her.

"Olivia? Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, trying to disguise the unfallen tears in her voice. "Everything's fine."

"You want to tell me why you were screaming at the delivery guy?"

She grimaced. "Was it that loud?" she asked.

"Well, at first I thought you were just unreasonably pissed that they messed up the order, but I saw you shove him. I don't think he was just Garden Palace's delivery guy."

She sighed and looked down, biting the corner of her lip. "It wasn't the delivery guy, he ran into the delivery guy in the elevator and brought the food up himself."

"Who was it, Olivia?" he was wracking his brain for a clue.

"Elliot."

"Who's Elliot?" he asked, baffled.

"My part-, my former partner," she said.

"Ah," he said, understanding a little bit now. "The one who was in the photo that used to be on the fridge?" Now he recognized where he had seen that face before.

She nodded.

On the other side of the door, Elliot stood unmoving, crumpled up bills still rolling at his feet. He'd seen the man, shirtless, come around the corner just as Olivia called him a selfish bastard and shoved him out of her door. He had no idea who that guy was, but obviously he was comfortable enough with Olivia to be walking around without a shirt or shoes in her apartment. He heard low murmured voices on the other side of the door.

He knocked again.

Inside Olivia froze when she heard the knock. She turned and looked towards the door, then grabbed the food and moved towards the coffee table in the living room.

"You going to answer that?" David asked her.

"No," she said. "I know who it is and I don't want to talk to him."

"So you're just going to leave him out there?" he asked, surprised.

"He got here somehow. He has a car; he'll go home eventually, hopefully before morning," she said, as if it was nothing. "I'm certainly not going to talk to him just because he decided to wait outside my door…not after 10 months." She said the last part under her breath, David wasn't completely sure he'd even heard it or if he imagined it.

He heard a cold tone in her voice, one he figured was covering up a world of hurt.

They dished out their food in silence, chuckling softly when they both heard David's stomach grumble. As they sat on the couch, Olivia with her legs crossed, facing David on the couch, he said "You want to tell me the story of what happened with your partner…with this Elliot character?"

"No, not really…" He opened his mouth to try to convince her she needed to but she went on, "But I guess I should." She took a bite of broccoli and chewed for a minute. She was trying to decide where to start, Jenna? Gitano? Computer Crimes?

"So we were partners for 12 years, since I joined SVU."

"That's a long time," he replied.

"Yeah." She took another bite of broccoli. It was hard to differentiate where the story with Elliot started and where the rest of her past left off.

"He was a good partner, the best, always had my back. He knew my past, knew my weaknesses and strengths, knew my faults." She thought of Gitano and tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. She blinked them back. "We had been through a lot of crap together, his family, my family; he was there when my mom died. I almost got him arrested looking for my brother, he used his house for bail money for me and I helped deliver his youngest son after his wife and I were in a car accident. We had as many shitty cases as you could count." The tears were really threatening now. David was staring at her, flabbergasted at the things she was telling him, dying to ask about the details of those stories. She didn't even notice, so absorbed in the past was she.

"Then there was this case, last winter. A witness was murdered and her daughter… Her daughter just lost it. It was a perfect storm of shitty circumstances and silly mistakes. She got a gun into the precinct. She shot Sister Peg, shot all around the precinct and Elliot… he told her to put down the gun, we all told her over and over but she wouldn't, she kept firing. Sister Peg was dead, I was covered in her blood and then she moved to fire again and….and Elliot shot her. She was 13." Olivia paused. She'd never actually had to tell anyone that whole story before.

David's mind was working in overdrive, he tried to keep the expression on his face neutral. He'd heard about the Stationhouse Shooting, as it had been branded in the press, but he hadn't put two and two together until now. Olivia was going on "So Elliot uh, he couldn't deal with it, so he quit, turned in his gun and his badge and mailed in his papers. He had his twenty years, so…" She shrugged as if that was it.

David knew there had to be more to the story. He got the first part. They'd been close, it seemed this guy was a friend who knew all her dirty laundry. They'd saved each other's lives countless times, but something was missing.

"And this was all 10 months ago?" he asked. She nodded back.

"So you haven't spoken with him since he said goodbye?" he asked.

She looked up at him, stared him in the eye, then looked back down at her broccoli and chicken, which was suddenly completely unappetizing. "He didn't say goodbye, D, he just left. He went to give his statement to the IAB and I went to shower, to get rid of…of all the blood and when I came back downstairs, he was gone. He left without a word and never came back. Ten months ago, 11 next week." She shook her head, stabbed her chicken with a chopstick. "And then he shows up at my door at 11 o'clock at night and thinks I'm mad at his because he SHOT her? Twelve years and he thinks I'm mad because he saved my life."

"You're not mad because he killed that little girl?" David asked, knowing the answer, but wanting her to say what she was really mad about out loud.

"No, I'm not mad about that. He had to."

"Then why are you mad at him?"

"Don't shrink me, Haden, I get enough of that at work."

"Yeah, okay…So why are you so pissed at him?"

"Because he left me, David. He quit. He quit the squad. He quit the force. Fine. I get it, but he quit ME. Twelve years and he disappears without a word. The one guy who knew all my shit and didn't care…I didn't even matter enough to him for him to say goodbye… THAT'S what I'm mad about." She glanced up at him, wondering what he reaction would be. She'd as good as told him that she'd had an emotional affair with this other guy for twelve years. That wasn't something you usually told the guy you were currently sleeping with.

"Well, you deserve to be pissed at him. He acted like an ass."

Whatever reaction she'd expected, that wasn't it. "Yeah." She said it firmly, like it was the finally word on the topic.

"So, do you think he's still in the hallway? Want me to go pummel him for you?"

She laughed out loud at that. "Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, D, but Elliot's a twenty year NYPD veteran and a former Marine. You are a lawyer who fights only with words. You would get your ass kicked."

"Yeah, I know, but I felt like I needed to offer. You going to eat that?" he asked, reaching for her spring roll.

She offered it to him smiling, amazed that the confrontation with Elliot seemed like it had happened last week, not just 20 minutes before…


	5. Chapter 5

You Can't Help Who You Love – Chapter 5

The detectives pulled their guns and crept toward the warehouse. They were all wearing bullet proof vests. Fin and Rollins crept towards the front door as Benson and Amaro took the back. They'd finally gotten somewhere in the investigation of a prostitution ring that dealt in young teenage girls. They were fairly confident the warehouse served as a way station for girls coming and going into the area. They weren't sure what, or who, they would find inside, hence the protective gear. Backup units were on the scene, ready to intervene at a moments notice, but until they knew who was inside and what kind of weapons they were holding, the cavalry was being held back. Cragen was on the walkie-talkie, talking into their one-way ear pieces.

With Rollins and Fin scouring the front of the building, Benson and Amaro silently approached the back door. Finding it open, they crept inside, silently communicating a plan to separate and clear the aisles, which were stacked with pallets and boxes of some unknown goods. After being separated for about 3 minutes, with radio silence from the other detectives and from Cragen, Benson heard a noise coming from the side aisle Amaro had headed down. She ran as quietly as possible towards the noise. She heard Nick grunt and heard a crash. Just as she rounded the corner she saw Nick's gun being kicked out of his hand by a thin, sinewy man with a mustache. The man then kicked Nick in the face, grabbed his gun and held it at his jawline.

"Police! Freeze!" Benson yelled, her gun trained on the suspect. He froze, then turned towards her and sneered. She felt something hit her on the back of her head, causing her to see stars but not lose consciousness. She reacted immediately with defensive move, but she felt her left arm pulled sharply back behind her lifting her off her feet and something cold pressed to her temple

"Drop the gun," a deep voice commanded. "Now." She looked at Nick, who already had a huge goose egg on his forehead and a cut beneath his eye. The mustached man still had the gun trained on his neck. The man who held her arm was tall, he easily pulled her arm up a little higher. "NOW, drop it!" he said as he yanked her arm hard and pushed the barrel of his gun further into her temple. She heard a pop that was louder than just a pop and needles of pain began shooting down her arm.

Nick looked at his partner. Her gaze was still trained on him, her right hand still held the gun, but it was no longer pointed at their suspect who held Nick's gun; her arm had drifted down, despite her best efforts to hold it up. The man behind her was huge, easily 6'8 and well over 300 pounds. Nick figured he must outweigh her by at least her own body weight. There was no way she'd win in a fight.

Nick saw him pull backwards on his partner's arm again. She didn't let out a sound, but the giant man yelled again at her and gave a jerk. He saw all the color leave her face and beads of sweat break out on her forehead as her right arm dropped completely and she let go of her weapon.

As she dropped it, memories bombarded her. "I'm sorry" she mouthed to him, and she was immediately transported to a previous case that had ended similarly, except in that case it had been her and her partner and only one perp with a gun.

Nick was still watching his partner, confused as to what she was doing. The giant still had her by the arm, pulling it behind her, but she was leaning down, reaching for something, even though he could see the tension it was putting on her shoulder. Finally it dawned on him. Her ankle piece…she was reaching for her ankle piece. She was sweaty and pale and she was biting her lip. The big man jerked her arm again and she didn't let out a cry, but tears spilled out over her cheeks and she stood up, on her tiptoes, as high as se could get, trying to relieve some of the pressure on her arm, ankle piece forgotten. The man held tight, lifting her by the arm just above where her toes could reach the floor. Hee reached down and grabbed the small pistol from her leg for himself as she practically dangled from her twisted arm.

Olivia heard Cragen in her ear piece, stating the front of the warehouse was clear. She was praying that their suspects couldn't hear and didn't notice the earpieces. No such luck. Without letting go of her arm, he pulled it from her ear and stomped on it. She tried unsuccessfully to kick him, get him to change his grip, but his hand was like iron on her arm and in response he jerked again. Pain shot through her arm all the way to her head and she saw spots swimming in front of her eyes.

Nick saw the tall man gesture to the mustached man that had his own weapon held to his neck and he too pulled the earpiece from Nick's ear and smashed it with his heel. Unknown to the two detectives in the back of the warehouse, the smashing of the earpieces caused feedback static, alerting the backup teams that something wasn't right. Olivia tried to focus on the situation and not on the blinding pain in her shoulder. There were 30 armed officers outside this warehouse, it was only a matter of time. She wondered if the suspects knew this. She glanced over at Nick and saw the cut on his cheek bleeding down his face, barrel of the gun shoved into the crease under his jaw.

She tried to talk to them, explain that they were just there to check a few things and was rewarded with another blinding jerk to her arm, practically lifting her off her feet. She stopped talking as she felt a wave of nausea overcome her following the pain. Nick opened his mouth to say something and was rewarded with the gun being shoved farther into his neck. It seemed their suspects didn't have much of a plan either. Before she could get two thoughts together to form a plan, she heard a creak above her.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by officers holding guns at the heads of the two suspects. Their suspects, realizing they were in the losing end of the situation, gave up their guns, letting Nick and then Olivia fall to the floor. Olivia held her arm close to her side and grabbed her gun back and reholstered it. This was going to be a holy shit storm. How the hell did they BOTH get overpowered? She looked around at the scene, searching for her Captain. She wanted to give her statement and get out of there, make sure her partner was okay without actually having to talk to him and then take care of her blasted arm.

As she was searching for her boss, she heard his voice come up behind her. "Benson! You alright?" Seeing her turn around, seemingly in one piece, he went on "What the hell happened?"

"I dunno, Cap. We split up, each took an aisle, I heard a noise and by the time I got there he had kicked Amaro in the face and had his gun. The other guy came up behind me and hit the back of my head." She moved to feel the back of her head and choked back a hiss as pain shot through her shoulder. She used her other hand and felt a goose egg, but saw no blood come away on her hand. She went on "He grabbed my arm and…"

"And you lost your weapon…" Cragen finished for her. "Well, we got them, and no one's too worse for wear." He gestured towards Nick, who was having two steri-strips placed under his eye by a female medic.

She looked over at Nick and he met her eye for a moment. She turned, her anger at herself overwhelming, her guilt paining her more than her shoulder. She walked towards him, careful not to move her arm and asked him "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," he replied. She gave him a quick nod and turned on her heel. He'd never seen that look in her eye before. Cragen saw her storm past the other detectives and he shared a glance with Fin. _They'd_ seen that look in her eye before; she was going to lose it. She strode towards the exit and seeing a table by the door with a single chair next to it and an old dusty telephone on top of the table, she gave the table a giant kick, knocking it over with a clatter as she let out an angry yell. Without missing a stride she stormed out the door.

Nick saw the scene and stood to follow her, earning a frustrated "Hey!" from the medic tending his eye.

Cragen stopped him with a hand as he stepped in front of his detective. "Let her go, Amaro. She's alright." He didn't think she was, but he knew he didn't really have a leg to stand on so he sat back down and let the medic finish her work.

Nick gave his statement as she was finishing working on his eye. As soon as he was done, he walked outside and was a little stunned by the chaos and the swarm of uniforms loitering around. He saw his partner talking to another plain clothes officer, probably giving her statement to one of the other detectives. He watched her for a moment, something seemed off with her posture but he couldn't place it. She was still wearing her Kevlar, maybe it was just getting heavy. Most everyone else had ditched theirs as soon as it was declared safe.

The officer closed his notebook and shut off the tape recorder. He nodded at Olivia and headed back towards the two squad cars where the suspects sat, separately. He watched her walk a few yards to the corner of the lot, away from the other officers.

He approached her quietly. "Benson?" he called. He saw her stiffen and realized he didn't know what he was going to say. He walked up and stood next to her, trying to figure out what in the distance she was staring at; there was nothing as far as he could tell. "You give your statement?" It seemed generic enough of a question.

She turned, her vest flapping, half of it unbuckled. "Yeah, why?"

"Just asking, is all." She was incredibly upset about something, he didn't know what. She had turned back to stare into nothing. "What's your problem?"

"I…I'm sorry, Nick," she stammered. She couldn't get the image of him with a gun pressed against his carotid out of her mind. She had almost let him get killed, she let her weapon be taken from her, because someone had _hurt her arm_. She'd been conscious, hadn't been shot or stabbed, she hadn't been dying. It had _hurt. _That was all. She had let a little pain get in the way of doing her job and it had almost cost her partner's life. It probably already had cost her their partnership. It wasn't something that "sorry" covered. She'd been through this before. She was ashamed, she felt like a failure. She turned away from him, staring again at the skyline.

"Your sorry? Sorry?" Nick blustered. "For WHAT? Are you feeling guilty? Is that what's going on? Is that what the deal was with the table?"

"Look, I shouldn't have let him get my weapon. It was our only chance, I shouldn't have let them—"

"Benson" he cut her off, "Just shut up a minute. Are you forgetting that you had a gun to your head too? You got hit in the head and were held at gunpoint by a man who outweighed you by a heavyweight prizefighter. What could you possibly think—"

"I could have kept my gun on him, could have gotten my ankle piece, gotten to you faster…" Her voice was angry. "Should've had your back…" the last phrase was quieter; as if she thought verbalizing it would make him realize it was true.

"Seriously, Olivia, stop beating yourself up. We're okay; we got them. I lost my gun first. You did whatever you could, I don't blame you one bit, so stop blaming yourself!" He reached for her, grabbing her left arm, trying to pull her back towards the building. The minute he put any pressure on her arm, she turned and hissed at him, holding her arm close to her stomach.

He squinted at her. "What's wrong with your arm? You okay?" He scanned the parking lot for the ambulance, which was already gone, having patched him up, the only person they thought was injured.

"It's fine, Nick. Just sore from that giant asshole pulling on it," she replied indifferently and walked back towards the building, straps of her vest hanging down on the left, still attached on the right.

She marched back to the building and found Cragen, who updated her on the plan to pick up the rest of the group, now that they had the ringleaders. She turned after he dismissed her and headed back to the sedan they'd driven in. Nick was already there, loading his Kevlar into the trunk and drinking from a bottle of water. Seeing her approach he said, "Toss me your vest, Liv."

When she didn't respond or toss him the vest he looked up at her. She was standing in front of the sedan slightly perplexed.

"Olivia?" he asked.

She sighed and said "Nick, I need you to unbuckle my vest and then drop me off somewhere on our way back."

He reached over and grabbed the buckles of her vest. She shrugged out of it awkwardly and put it in the trunk one handed. As she straightened up, Nick looked at her, finally figuring out what was wrong. Her shoulder was displaced, her arm hung limp and a little twisted in front of her.

"My god Olivia! What the hell!" He left her standing at the sedan and marched off to find Cragen. Finding him next to his own car, he said "Hey Cap, I'm gonna run Benson over to Mercy, we'll meet you back at the precinct."

Captain Cragen's head shot up. "Mercy? What the hell happened to Benson?" He scanned the scene and saw his detective standing by the car. Without her vest on, he could see the problem with her shoulder even from a distance.

"I think that asshole dislocated her shoulder," Nick replied.

"Fine, go. Good grief, what the hell is happening today?" he muttered to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

_"My god Olivia! What the hell!" He left her standing at the sedan and marched off to find Cragen. Finding him next to his own car, he said "Hey Cap, I'm gonna run Benson over to Mercy, we'll meet you back at the precinct." _

_Captain Cragen's head shot up. "Mercy? What the hell happened to Benson?" He scanned the scene and saw his detective standing by the car. Without her vest on, he could see the problem with her shoulder even from a distance. _

_"I think that asshole dislocated her shoulder," Nick replied. _

You Can't Help Who You Love – Chapter 6

Olivia climbed into the passenger seat of the sedan and reached with her right arm to grab her seat belt. She could barely bend her left arm anymore without it hurting. She struggled a little with the belt as Nick just watched but eventually got the belt in the latch. She turned and glared at him. "What?" she said angrily.

He tilted his head. "Nothing."

"Spit it out, Amaro. It's a long drive back to Manhattan if we're not going to talk."

"You should've told the medics about your shoulder, Olivia."

"It's fine, Nick. They just would've shipped me off to the ER so they could pop it back in and it would've caused a huge scene. This way is better." She hissed as he hit a pothole.

"Oh, this is better? You swearing everytime I hit a pebble? Liv, the longer that thing is out, the harder it is to put back in."

"Whatever, Amaro, it's fine."

"Whatever, my ass."

Thirty minutes later they were in the ER with a bearded, grey-haired doctor and three students staring at her shoulder. They'd made her change out of her shirt into a gown so they could get a better look. She sat on the gurney as the doctor explained to the three students how he was going to put her shoulder back into place. He was explaining how with a fresh dislocation, it's easier to put back into place because the surrounding tissues and muscles haven't had time to swell, but after several hours it becomes increasingly more difficult. Nick looked over at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't say a word, Amaro. Just get it over with Doc," she said.

"Well, we'll give it a try but if this doesn't work we'll probably have to give you a muscle relaxer and some sedatives," the bearded doctor said.

"Well, get on with it. Putting it back in can't possibly hurt more than pulling it out did."

"How did this happen again?" one of the students asked. Nick rewarded him with the story of how the giant of a man had man-handled her and lifted her off her feet by her twisted arm. "She's tough though, didn't even grimace and even I heard the pop from 5 feet away." Olivia was throwing him a very angry look.

The older doctor grabbed her arm and Olivia fidgeted, determined not to call out. He grabbed her elbow and pulled slowly and she drew in her breath. She was wrong, this hurt more than what that guy had done, or at least it hurt more when she wasn't shot full of adrenalin watching her partner with a gun to his head. She had her eyes closed and was thinking of anything other than her shoulder.

As if in a fog, she heard the doctor say "No good, we'll have to give her a shot."

She groaned and flopped back onto the gurney, holding her left elbow still with her right arm. "She'll need a ride home after this," she heard him say.

"No problem, I'll be here," she heard Nick say.

The next hour or so was a blur, they'd shot her full of pain medications and a muscle relaxer and pulled on her shoulder until she'd heard a satisfying pop. Even doped up, she could feel her shoulder hurt much less the minute it was in place. They shot a quick xray and fixed her up with a brace that kept her elbow pinned to her body and sent her home in her partner's care.

Nick stuck his head in the door just as she was gathering her things. She was feeling foggy still, but she could walk and talk and that was good enough for her.

As they left the hospital, Nick turned the car downtown towards Olivia's apartment. "Hey, where are you going? West End Ave goes downtown, we need to get up to 96th St," she said.

"I know how to drive in the city, Benson. I'm driving you home."

"No way, it's only 4pm. Back to the precinct," she ordered.

"Uh uh, no way," he replied.

"No way? I don't think so. You try to drop me off at my apartment and I will not set one foot out of this car. We can both sit there in this car at the curb for the next 4 hours if that's how you want to play it."

"Olivia," he protested.

"I mean it Nick, I can work."

He knew she might feel fine, but he could hear her slurring her words. Her eyelids were still a little droopy. He shook his head.

"What are you going to do, Amaro? Carry me up the stairs of my 4th floor walk up? Turn uptown here," gesturing to the next crosstown street.

He sighed and turned the car uptown. He was still getting to know his partner, but he knew, doped up or not, he wasn't going to win an argument like this when she'd dug her heels in.

When they arrived into the precinct, he walked with her into the squadroom, practically forcing her to sit at her desk. He handed her a bottle of water and walked up to Cragen, Fin and Rollins who were standing at the display board.

"What's going on, Amaro? I thought you were dropping her off at home?" Cragen said.

"I tried, she refused."

"She _refused?_ I thought you said they doped her up with sedatives to shove her shoulder back into place."

"They did."

"Well, then she shouldn't be here," he barked at his detective.

"Yeah, I know. She wouldn't go home. Have you ever argued with Benson, Captain? Do you find her stubborn and unreasonable? Have you ever tried to argue with her when she's been doped up on horse tranquilizers? She is belligerent and isn't even making sense." He tried to explain the jam he'd been in.

"So you thought the best thing to do was bring her to a Police Station?" he asked sarcastically. The group turned to watch Olivia who, with heavily lidded eyes, was trying to open the bottle of water with only one hand.

"Well, she's here now. Get her upstairs to sleep it off in the cribs," he said to Amaro, as they watched the bottle slip from her hand and bounce on the floor.

Amaro went to convince Olivia to go upstairs. Fin, Rollins and the Captain watched them argue. To his other detectives, he said "Go help him take care of that situation before I have to." He walked away grumbling under his breath. Fin thought he heard him say something about Amateur Day at the races…

Fin and Rollins approached the other detectives. Olivia was still protesting, saying she didn't need to sleep. Amaro was right, Fin thought. She was belligerent.

"Hey, Olivia," Fin said, leaning over towards her. "Either you go upstairs and sleep off the meds or…" He leaned forward and whispered so only she could hear "I'm going to call up the EADA and tell him to fetch you and bring you home."

She glared at him, a look that almost scared Nick. "What makes you think I would listen to him?" She said out loud. Rollins and Amaro looked at each other, confused and amused.

"I don't think you would, but I'm betting that you don't want him to come here and cause a scene trying to get you to listen."

She got to her feet and shot Fin a death glare as she headed towards the cribs.

"That's right, I play dirty. Don't forget it," he hollered after her. She flipped him the bird with her good hand as she went up the stairs.

Amaro and Rollins looked at Fin in shock. "It's okay," he said. "I deserved it, but hey, she's gonna sleep it off…"

Rollins and Fin filled Amaro in on what they had missed in the clean up from the raid. They had a lot of leads to follow, it was going to be a long couple of days. They were going to need Olivia as soon as she was able.

After the briefing, which only took a few minutes - Nick was quick to catch on and the other detectives succinct and to the point - Nick turned to the cribs, going to check on his partner.

He found her already asleep on the far bunk, tilted on her right side to keep pressure off the left shoulder. He grabbed one of the old wool blankets and draped it over her. She shifted and murmured something unintelligible. He shook his head as he remembered her with a gun to her head, dislocated shoulder, still reaching for her ankle piece. She was one of the toughest people he'd ever met, but sleeping like this, all drugged up, she looked just like any other pretty girl, vulnerable almost. He turned and left her to her sleep.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Olivia awoke with a foggy feeling, as if her eyes were too heavy to open. The room was dark, but not black. She had no idea what time it was or where she was. She tried to sit up and was hit immediately with a wave of pain radiating from her left shoulder. She felt the brace limiting her movement and slowly the events of the day came back to her. She groaned as she swung her legs to the side of the bed. She looked up as the door opened, flooding the room with light. She squinted up at the figure in the doorway.

"Hey, you're awake," Nick said.

"Uh, yeah. How long was I asleep?" she asked with a scratchy voice.

"About 4 hours. It's just passed 8pm. How're you feeling?"

"Hungover," she replied, "but lucid." She rose up off the bed and headed down towards the squadroom. "Fill me in on what I missed?" she asked as they headed down the stairs.

Downstairs, Fin and Rollins were both working at their computers. "Hey," Amanda said. "Good to see you awake."

Olivia made a face in response. "So what've we got?" she asked, grabbing a bottle of water and leaning the top end toward Nick, meaning for him to open it.

"You sure you don't want to try and open that yourself? We enjoyed watching you try to open one earlier…" Nick joked.

"You better shut it or I'll start wishing I hadn't tried so hard to save your ass…" Olivia responded.

Getting home after 11pm, Olivia realized what a pain in the ass it was going to be trying to do everything one handed. Even getting her shirt on and off was torture. She managed to get everything done that she needed to, though it took her twice as long.

Around 1130pm she heard a knock on her door. She'd gotten a message from David telling her he was coming over as soon as she'd told him she was leaving work. Remembering the surprise visitor she'd gotten earlier in the week, she checked the peephole and saw David standing the hallway in jeans and an old sweatshirt.

He gave her a concerned look when she opened the door for him. "It looks much more dramatic than it is," she said, before he could say anything.

"Bullshit," he said. "I dislocated my shoulder playing touch football in law school. Hurt like a bitch. I could barely dress myself for weeks."

She smirked at him. "Well, maybe I'm just tougher than you."

"Of that I have no doubt," he said.

"What did you need, David?" He had told her that he really needed to see her about something that night.

"I really needed to see that you were okay," he replied.

"You didn't need something real?" she asked.

"Hey, that's real. I was concerned."

"Well, I'm fine," she said, a little huffy.

"Relax…I'm not going to hover." He made himself comfortable on her sofa.

"Look, D, I'm kind of beat…"

"You going to bed? I'll join you…"

"David…"

"Hey, you think I'm here just for sex after you had your shoulder dislocated by a goon? Maybe I'm just here to check up on you."

"I don't need checking up on."

"Yeah, I know, I get it, but here I am, so…" He held his arms up in a "whaddyu know" gesture.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, let's go to bed." She marched into the bedroom and climbed under the comforter, acting as if she didn't care what he did. She let out a little sigh of contentment as he shed his jeans and climbed in next to her, petting the hair off her face gently.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The next morning she planned on an extra 30 minutes of torture in order to get out the door. She was still 15 minutes late to work, but she managed allright. She hadn't let David help at all, saying she needed to make sure she could do it on her own. She was kind of proud of herself for her ingenuity.

By the end of the week, she almost had a routine down for working around having a bum shoulder. The doctor had said she needed the brace for 4 weeks, so she figured 3 was probably plenty. That left her only two more weeks to go.

She was suffering through desk duty at work. She hated being stuck at a desk, but even she had to admit that she would be pretty useless outside. That afternoon, Rollins and Fin were out chasing down leads when they got a call about a new case; Warner was just getting to the body. Amaro jumped up at Cragen's call, eager to get outside. He looked around and not seeing anyone else, he looked at Benson. "Think you can handle a simple crime scene?" he asked

"Absolutely," she replied, jumping up and grabbing her jacket, which she slipped on her one good arm.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy to be at work outside of the precinct. Nick told her to wipe that grin off her face before they got to the dead body. She tried really hard to do so.

Their crime scene was a small alley in Spanish Harlem, the body was found naked, the site already swarming with CSUs and the ME's office by the time they got there. Warner went over what she had found, one eye on the weather, which was threatening rain.

"We're working as fast as we can," Warner was saying. "This storm is going to hit and we're going to lose all the physical evidence that we haven't bagged."

As if on cue, thunder clapped loudly from above. "Faster people!" Warner hollered. They got another 15 minutes of evidence collected and got the body into the back of the bus before the deluge started. Olivia and Nick jogged back to the car, only to find that Nick had locked the keys in the car.

"Oh my god, Amaro. Of all the days," Olivia cried.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled back, "I didn't even know these sedans allowed you to lock the door with the keys inside."

Olivia was muttering under her breath as she pulled out her cell phone to call the precinct. She was already soaked, could feel the rain through her thin cotton jacket and blouse. They had umbrellas, but they'd left them in the car…She looked around for an awning to shield them while they waited; the nearest was half a block away. Her hair was dripping by the time they reached it, her pants soaked to her knees. She was glad she wasn't wearing a white shirt. Without a coat, Nick didn't look any better than she did.

Ten minutes later, a squad car arrived with two uniformed officers in it. They pulled up to the curb and a hand stuck out and dangled a set of keys at them. "Here you go, Detectives. Enjoying your break?" they chuckled at them.

Olivia grabbed the keys from them, thanked the officers and tossed the keys at Amaro.

Arriving back at the station, the plodded into the squadroom. Cragen took one took at them and sighed "Seriously guys?" He looked at Benson. "It is just not your month, is it?"

She shook her head, water still dripping from her hair. "Both of you, upstairs and change before you destroy my squadroom or catch pneumonia, or both."

They trudged upstairs to the locker room just as Fin and Rollins showed up. "What happened to them?" Rollins asked.

"Amaro locked the keys in the car," Cragen replied.

"How pissed is Benson right now?" she asked.

"Actually, I think she was happier out in the rain than she was at her desk," Cragen replied, heading back to his office.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Upstairs, the two detectives each took a separate section of their coed locker room, peeling off wet clothes and grabbing the spare set they kept at work just in case.

It took Olivia a lot longer than it took Nick, considering she had to fight the brace and then do everything one handed.

She managed to get dry pants and underwear on, but when it came to her top, she struggled. She'd been wearing a bra that clasped in front, a camisole that she could slide up over her hips and a button down cotton blouse that was easy to slip on. The bra and tshirt she had stashed in her locker were not particularly shoulder friendly. She struggled a bit on her own, turning things one way and then another, before hollering.

"Hey, Amaro?"

"Yeah?" he hollered back.

"I need a favor."

"Yeah, sure" he came around the corner, assuming she was dressed, and stopped short and averted his eyes when he saw her standing with her back to him, jeans on, bra on, but strap unlatched and tshirt around her neck and one arm. "Oh, god, sorry, uh.."

"Suck it up, Amaro. Um, I need you to hook my bra strap, I can't get to it and I can't do it one handed." She was blushing and was thankful her partner couldn't see it. He was still standing at the other end of the small section of lockers not moving. "Come on, Amaro, it's cold." She could feel her hair dripping water down onto her bare shoulders; goosebumps sprang up all over her damp skin. He kept his eyes averted as he walked towards her. Reaching her back, he reached up and hooked the two ends of the grey sheer bra strap for her. She sighed a little in relief. That was by far the most awkward thing they'd ever had to do. She couldn't help but remember the time she'd stripped in front of Stabler to get him out of a pinch while undercover. She didn't think that she could do that in front of Amaro, Elliot had been different. "Now," she ordered, "pull the tshirt sleeve down so I can fit my arm through it." She tried to bend her left arm at the elbow and tried to fit it into the NYPD tshirt. She was expecting Amaro to pull the shirt down to help her, but he hadn't moved.

"Amaro" she said sharply, wondering if he was looking away in some chivalrous embarrassment.

"My god, Olivia, what happened to your back?" he said in a quiet voice, a little stunned.

Please pretty please review.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_"My god, Olivia, what happened to your back?" he said in a quiet voice, a little stunned. _

She wrinkled her brow, confused as to what he was talking about. When she remembered, she froze, her heart sank.

"My shirt, Amaro. Come on!" she demanded. He still hadn't made a move.

"But Liv…."

"NOW." She lifted her arm awkwardly and tried to shove it into the t-shirt on her own, grunting with the pain.

He still hadn't moved; she knew he was still staring at her back, but her other option was to turn around and let him see her without a shirt on.

"They're old scars, Nick. You can only see them now because of the cold. Please," she pleaded, "the shirt." He finally pulled the t-shirt out far enough so she could fit her arm into it, then she shrugged it down. He stared at her back until the shirt covered it. The image was seared into his brain: her olive skin, smooth and taut over the sinewy muscles of her back, marred by a pink scar, on her mid-back, two distinct lines connected by a loop on the end. There were two images, one stronger than the other, as if the second was a shadow of the first. She was right, it was old. The lines were pink because she was cold, but they were pale and faded, not angry and red like new injuries.

She turned around, finally fully clothed. "Thank you," she said, not making eye contact. Her hair was still dripping, leaving dark grey spots on the lighter grey of her NYPD tshirt. Nick still hadn't moved.

"Olivia…" he said. She closed her eyes; he wasn't going to drop it.

"It was a long time ago, Nick. They are usually not even visible. Don't worry about it."

"Olivia…" he said in a pleading voice. She pursed her lips and closed her eyes with a sigh. "I've taken the same forensics classes you have. Those were made with a wire, with force." Seeing it in photos is _never_ like seeing it in real life. It must have been excruciatingly painful when they were fresh.

"Amaro, it was over 30 years ago, just drop it." She was rubbing her hair with a towel, avoiding his eyes.

"Olivia, how old are you?" he demanded.

"39" she replied. "Nick…"

"Over 30 years ago? You were 8?"

"I was 7. I don't really want to talk about it."

"You don't want to talk about it?" he said incredulous.

She spun around and hissed at him, looking around to make sure no one else was in the locker room. "No, why would I?"

"Because…because I'm your partner."

"Just because you are my partner doesn't mean I have to tell you all my dirty laundry, Amaro."

"Look, if you tell me I might be able to help."

"Nick, it was 30 years ago. I don't need your help," she said firmly.

"Oh no?" he said, picking up the wet shoulder brace still sitting on the bench. "Then put on that by yourself," he said, tossing at her, wide to her left. She tried to grab it and failed, the brace landing softly on the floor.

She bent down to pick up the brace, blowing out the breath she'd been holding. "You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you for your help."

She sat down on the bench and tried to reattach the wet brace. The wet straps slipped through her fingers as she fumbled to attach it properly. He reached over to help her, sitting next to her. The wet straps were already soaking through into the old cotton of her shirt.

"Uh, it's kind of wet, you sure…"

"Yeah, it'll dry… Listen, Nick…."

"It's okay, you don't need to say anything."

"No, listen. It was April, nine months before my 8th birthday. My mom had finished the better part of a bottle of vodka and I had asked her if she would take me to the park. It was before I learned to just leave her alone when she'd been drinking. I don't know what set her off. I mean, now I know the timing was bad but I don't know what exactly it was that made her snap. She just grabbed the first thing she saw, which was an old wire clothes hanger sitting on the counter. It was the only time she ever…It wasn't like she beat me.

"Except she did," he said. Nick sat next to her, his face in his hands. "My god, Liv. Seven? Zara's almost 6 and she's still practically a toddler."

"You don't even notice them unless you know to look for them usually, but with the cold and the wet…" She shrugged. "I stopped worrying about making sure clothes covered them long ago because you can't usually see them… Nick, listen, right now you make a total of three people on this planet who know that story. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Of course. Of course," he stammered. Then, "Liv, can I ask? Who's the third?"

"What?" she asked.

"You, me, who's the third person?"

"Ah…Stabler," she said quietly, looking him in the eye, wondering if he would understand what it meant that Elliot Stabler, the man who had left her without a word, who had essentially abandoned her, was the only other person who knew that.

He nodded. He was dying to ask if Haden knew. He had to have seen her back, didn't he? He had to believe her though, she probably wasn't in the habit of telling guys she'd been dating for a month something that she claimed only one other person on the planet knew. Plus, the fact that they were dating wasn't really an open topic of conversation.

He looked at his partner, the woman who until 5 minutes ago he was convinced was invincible. He thought she looked tired all of a sudden. "Liv..I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up old…bad…stuff."

Olivia reached and adjusted the straps on the brace. "Its okay, Nick. Can we just pretend that the last 20 minutes never happened?" she asked.

"Gladly."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Olivia made it through the rest of the day somehow. She never really got completely warm, her wet hair and the wet brace soaking through her t-shirt never truly allowed it. At some point in the early evening, Nick snuck out, disappearing somewhere for 15 minutes or so. He came back with a large latte, the fancy kind from the expensive coffee shop down the block. He handed it to Olivia without a word, but with a small smile and raised eyebrow. She took it from him, understanding that he was apologizing for the stunt with the keys, for seeing her without a shirt on, for dredging up her past, for everything. "Ohhhh," she moaned quietly. "I needed this." She cupped her hands around the cup for warmth. In their weird way, they had just completed an entire conversation including apologizes and forgiveness, appreciation and understanding.

She was due in court the next morning at 8am sharp and was dying to get home in time to get a reasonable amount of sleep. The thought of trying to cram her arm into a suit in the morning had her dreading the whole day. She wrapped things up at around 10pm and walked out with Fin.

Getting into her suit the next morning took her an additional 25 minutes of contorting her body, but she eventually did. He headed to court in a cab, thinking about the lunch she and David had planned, something that they could rarely get away with.

Back uptown at the 1-6, Rollins and Amaro were researching a couple of leads. Munch and Fin were tracking down a witness. Cragen had been called down to 1PP to answer questions about their progress on the prostitution ring case. Rollins and Amaro agreed that they felt like teenagers left at home alone for the first time.

Out on the sidewalk in front of the 1-6, Elliot Stabler stood nervously shifting from foot to foot. He was trying to get up the nerve to go inside his old workplace, a building he never thought he would volunteer to enter ever again. He needed to see Olivia Benson. He didn't want to talk to her on the phone. His options were trying at work or stalking her outside her building. 'Only for that woman would he go back into that building,' he thought, 'only for her.' He thought of her dark eyes smiling at him, making a quip over a cup of coffee as she had a hundred times and his heart ached a little bit. He sucked in a deep breath and took a step.

Pretty pretty please review….


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry about the age mistakes, but in my story, that's how I want it. It's why they call it fiction...

Also, my apologies to those who complained about the cliffhangers. No one likes cliffhangers, that's the whole point...

Chapter 8

He walked into the building, being forced to sign in because he could no longer flash his badge. He thought the entire building was oddly quiet. 'Must be an off day,' he thought. It was even quieter in the SVU squadroom. He looked around for a familiar face and didn't find even one he recognized. 'Had things really changed that much in a year?'

He approached a petite blond pecking frantically at a computer as if she was angry with it. "Can I help you?" she asked in a Southern drawl.

"Uh, I'm looking for Olivia Benson," he said, wondering if this woman had any idea who he was. He couldn't decide if that would be a good or a bad thing.

"She's not here at the moment, can I help you with something?" she repeated.

"Uh, no, I just needed to talk with her," he stammered. 'Damn, he never used to be so tongue-tied.'

"Well if you tell me what you need, I could probably help," the blond said, getting somewhat prickly.

"Is there a problem here?" a slender dark-haired man had come into the room.

"No, no problem," Elliot said quickly. "I was just looking for Benson."

Nick let the corners of his mouth fall down and tilted his head. "She's not here."

"Yeah, I gathered," Elliot said, feeling unnecessarily stonewalled by these two strangers. "Would you mind telling her that Elliot stopped by?"

"Ye—" Rollins had been about to say, 'yeah, sure' but then stopped. "Elliot Stabler? YOU'RE Elliot Stabler?" she asked, obviously a little surprised to see him in the flesh.

Nick was suddenly at red alert.

"Uh, yeah," Elliot said, suddenly feeling like he was on the hotspot. He could feel the dark haired man's eyes boring into him.

Nick was thinking 'Olivia hasn't mentioned this guy's name but twice in the 10 months he'd been at SVU. The second time had been just last night, the first time had been after he'd been with SVU a month and he'd mistakenly asked. Olivia had gone cold and said she 'didn't know what he was doing and that she was passed caring.' He didn't think that her opinion had changed in the past 9 months. He was fairly certain Olivia would not be pleased that this guy was here, in her workplace, asking to talk to her.

"Yeah, we'll tell her." Nick said it firmly, as if that was the final word. There was something in his voice Elliot couldn't detect. Sarcasm maybe. All of a sudden he didn't believe this guy was going to give her the message.

"Uh, maybe I'll just leave her a note," he said.

"Sure, whatever you like," Nick said, with the gleam of pleasantry on his lips. Elliot had been a detective for almost 20 years, he could still sense hostility a mile away.

He grabbed a post-it from Olivia's desk and thought for a minute, then scribbled a quick note. He left it tacked to her computer screen.

Just as he was standing and saying his "thanks" although for what, he wasn't sure, those detectives were not exactly helpful, Fin walked into the squadroom.

"Stabler!" he said in a shocked voice. Rollins and Amaro looked up. They had never heard the seasoned detective caught by surprise. "Good to see you, man." The two men shook hands and shared a man-hug, the kind where you clap the other guy on the back with your clasped hands still between you. The two exchanged pleasantries, then Elliot said, "Hey, I just stopped by to talk to Benson. I left a note," he gestured to the computer. He quickly left, before the other detectives could ask any more questions. Fin thought that was unusual for Elliot, but then again, he thought, things had changed drastically for the man.

The three detectives stood a little surprised and watched the man walk briskly out of the squadroom. When he had gone, Fin shrugged and went to his desk, the other two shared a glance.

Finally Amaro couldn't stand it any more. "Hey, Fin…" he said questioningly, "Stabler wanted to talk to Olivia." He said it as a statement, but Fin could hear the question behind it.

"Apparently he did," Fin replied.

Amaro had a disgusted look on his face. He was standing next to Olivia's desk, within reach of the post-it on her computer. "I don't think she wants to talk to him though," he said. Nick looked at the post-it on the desk, but didn't read the scrawled message on it. He grabbed it and crumbled it in his hand.

Fin looked at him and said, "What the hell you doin', Amaro?"

"Hey, Olivia's my partner, she doesn't want to talk to him. I don't owe that guy anything."

"You owe him your partner's life about a hundred times over. How do you know she doesn't want to talk to him?"

He thought back to what she had said previously about her former partner, and he remembered the look in her eye when he'd told her that Stabler knew about her scars, as if telling him that Stabler knew hurt her all over again. She had trusted Elliot with something she trusted with no one else and he had repaid her unkindly. Nick remembered that pink lines on her back as if they were burned on his brain.

"Ah, something she said one time," Nick replied.

"She said specifically? She may not want to talk to him, but I am pretty sure she'd love the opportunity to punch him in the face herself."

"But-" Nick protested. Fin held up a hand silently, trying to figure out how to counsel the younger detective.

"I've known Benson a long time, she's been through a lot of shit. She's as tough as they come. There ain't nothing Elliot's going to do to her that she can't deal with. She's always been able to handle Stabler."

Nick thought about his partner. He remembered her getting her shoulder dislocated in front of him, then kicking the table because she felt guilty about being hit over the head. He remembered her punching a suspect who'd taken a swing at him during his first week at SVU, knocking him down and almost out with a mean right hook. But then he saw her asleep with her shoulder in that brace and couldn't help but remember the scars on her back and he thought about how she wasn't invincible after all, physically or emotionally. She was the toughest person he thought he had ever met and he was STILL driven to try and protect her. It was enough to drive a man crazy.

"Olivia may be tough, but if anything in this world can break her, I think it's Elliot Stabler." Nick said, staring at the note in his hand.

"That may be, Amaro, but if you try to micromanage this for her, she will never forgive you," Fin replied, impressed by how quickly Nick had grasped his partner's mindset; she was a woman notoriously difficult to get a read on.

Nick thought about that a minute and then uncrumpled the note and tried to stick it back on the monitor. He nodded at Fin and then walked back to his desk. The post-it hung on for a second and then drifted down onto Olivia's desk.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Olivia and David enjoyed their somewhat illicit lunch, having met at a cafe a 15 minute walk from the courthouse. It was close enough to be convenient but not so close that they had to worry about running into people from work. She hurried back to the 1-6, feeling a little guilty that she enjoyed a long lunch. She tried to convince herself she deserved it; she couldn't remember if she'd EVER taken a long lunch before.

"Hey," Nick greeted her. "How was court?"

"Long and tedious," she replied, shrugging off her coat awkwardly. Her shoulder didn't hurt very much anymore as long as she didn't try to move it.

"Ah, there's a note somewhere on your desk. Uh…Errm, someone stopped by, left a message," Nick said vaguely.

She wrinkled her brow and searched her desk for the lost note. Finally finding it, her heart started pounding when she recognized the writing. She didn't even have to read it to know who it was from and the basics of what it said.

Staring at it, not moving, Olivia tried to grasp it the meaning of it. He had come here, to the stationhouse, to see her. She was so grateful she hadn't been here. It would have been an awful scene. She didn't want to confront him at all, she CERTAINLY didn't want to do it in such a public place, where everyone knew her, and him, and them together.

"Nick, you saw the guy who left this note?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?" he purposefully didn't look up from him desk, afraid that she would see something else in his eyes.

"He just walked in a stuck a post-it on my desk?" she asked.

"Well, first he asked for you and then gave Rollins a hard time when she said you weren't here and then he eventually left the note."

"Did he say anything else?" she asked.

"Not to me, talked to Fin for a minute though before he left." he said, thinking it served Fin right, let him answer her questions. He watched with some satisfaction as she looked at the note again and then crumpled in it her hand and tossed it in the garbage.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Elliot left the 1-6 that morning with a little bit of a heavy heart. He had tried very hard to keep himself from realizing how much he wanted to talk to Olivia, how much he missed her. The lack of her in his life was palpable. It had taken him months to realize that a great deal of his problem was stemming from the lack of communication with his old coworkers, especially his old partner. The pain he'd felt after the shooting was completely isolating and his voluntary seclusion from those that could help him through it compounded the problem.

Walking down the street towards where he had parked his car, he thought about the cool reception he'd gotten from the two new, he assumed, detectives. They clearly had heard of him and weren't especially impressed. He wondered if that was a common opinion in the NYPD or if the 1-6, or more specifically Olivia, had colored their perspective. He'd gotten a friendly, if surprised, response from Fin, which was encouraging. The response of the others was not doing very good things for his already battered self-esteem. He trudged slowly back to the car, wondering if Olivia would respond to his note. He'd asked her to call him, contact him, or if she wouldn't do that, to meet him at the old diner where they used to have breakfast at 7am the next Monday morning. He had said in the message he went there every Monday. He'd been hopeful earlier that he'd be able to get through to her, but thinking about the scene in the squadroom today, he was now concerned. The young dark haired detective had looked at him as if there was no way in hell he was going to pass on his message to Olivia, whatever business it was of his. The blond had been shocked to see him in person. At least Fin knew he had left a note; that was the saving grace of the day. Fin wouldn't let those two pull any shit. He knew how important this was, at least Elliot hoped he did.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Olivia had been called into court for a second time that week. The prosecution decided they had a few more questions for her. She grudgingly pulled on another suit and made her way downtown first thing in the morning. She'd sent David a text message asking if he wanted to meet for lunch again. He replied in the affirmative, suggesting a place again far enough away to avoid suspicion, but still relatively convenient. Olivia smiled when she got his response, turning off her phone as she entered the courthouse. She had seen him less than 48 hours ago, they'd spent the evening, and then the night, together, but she still couldn't wait to see him again. He was like a drug almost, had the power to make her day if she saw him and keep her going with the hope of seeing him when she didn't.

Court was again long and tedious and rather uninteresting. She'd gotten out a little early; she still had 30 minutes before David could meet her. Even if she walked slow, it was still only 20 minutes to the café. She was loitering outside the courthouse, sipping on a cup of coffee when she heard a familiar voice call her name. She looked up to see the red head of Casey Novak walking towards her.

"Hey Casey!" Olivia said, happy to see her friend. They got to see each other far less often now that Casey wasn't working only their cases.

"How's the shoulder?" Casey asked.

"Meh," Olivia replied with a shrug, "doesn't hurt too much, better every day, can't complain." The two women chatted amiably about recent activities, recent cases, catching up on things.

"I'm going to grab some lunch, join me?" Casey asked.

"Oh, sorry Case, I have to get going. Next time though," Olivia said, dodging the true reason for her refusal.

Casey squinted her eyebrows for a minute, processing a few things and finally things fell together and it was so obvious. "Olivia, I heard a rumor the other day. Care to fill me in?"

"What rumor was that?" Olivia replied, playing dumb. She knew exactly what she was referring to. 'So it had finally made it's way to the rumor mill,' she thought. 'Must've been a few days ago and there hadn't been any huge backlash…'

"About you and the EADA," Casey said simply.

"Oh," Olivia said simply, neither confirming or denying, but letting Casey know she had heard the 'rumor' too.

"Oh my god!" Casey exclaimed. "It's not a rumor," she said stunned. "You and I need to have a beer after work." She said that as if it was a command. Olivia agreed and they arranged to meet that evening.

o o o o o o o o o o

Olivia told David during their lunch that their relationship had made it around the rumor mill. She'd asked him if he'd heard anything and he'd said no, but his subordinates might not come right out and ask him. She'd also told David about the note that Elliot had left on her computer. She hadn't really wanted to, but he could tell something was bothering her and had badgered it out of her.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, referring to Elliot's request. "You going to call him?"

Olivia didn't answer right away. She had made a decision, she thought, but it felt that saying it out loud somehow made the decision more permanent, more real.

"No," she slowly shook her head, "I don't think so." She said it slowly, and quietly, and almost sadly

Surprised, he'd been expecting the opposite answer, David replied "You sure? Thirteen years is a long time."

"Yeah," she said, a little more confidently now, "but 11 months is a long time too. I…I think it might be too little, too late."

David nodded his head understandingly. He grabbed her chin and leaned over and kissed her. She tasted like the tomato soup she'd just eaten. He was trying to reassure her, to tell her he understood and supported her whatever she decided. "What time you getting off tonight? No wait, tonight's no good, I have to go to a lame Bar Association dinner. Tomorrow?"

"Unless something crazy happens at work….tomorrow's fine. I'm meeting Casey for a drink tonight anyway."

"Wonderful!" he replied. "I'll cook us dinner – your place or mine?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, "Mine…we stayed at your place last time."

"You got it. I'll meet you there, say 7? Unless I hear from you. So, meeting Casey...Casey Novak?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm probably going to tell her all my dirty secrets."

"ALL your dirty secrets?" he asked, eyebrow raised. "Remind me to blush next time I see her in the hallway..."

She smiled and gave his leg a squeeze as she headed back to work.

o o o o o o o o o

For once, she felt, they caught a break at work and they were all leaving at a reasonable hour the next day. She looked at her watch, thrilled that she'd have a chance to stop at the market with time to spare before David showed up. She grabbed a taxi home, straightened up a little bit, and changed her clothes. She was trying to get the straps of the brace to cooperate when she had a thought. It was already almost 3 weeks out, she was just running to the store, very non-strenuous. She could go without the brace, she'd be careful and put it back on as soon as she was home.

She stopped by the liquor store, picking up a bottle of scotch, knowing hers was just about empty, then the market to pick up a few basics: orange juice, some fruit, a box of pasta. She had shoved the bottle of liquor into the paper grocery bag and was carrying that in her good arm as she walked home. She was thinking about how she couldn't wait to ditch the brace for good as she turned onto her street.

Elliot jumped up from his perch on the stoop across the street from her apartment when he saw her turn the corner onto her block. She was fairly absorbed, not paying the closest attention and she didn't notice him until he walked across the street to meet her in front of her building.

She stopped short when she saw him. "What the hell are you doing here, Stabler? Stalking me?" she spat at him.

"I needed to talk to you and you didn't respond to my message. Did…did you even get the message?" he asked, thinking of the glare the dark haired detective had given him.

"Yeah, I got it, I just didn't want to talk to you," she replied. She was looking at him with fire in her eyes.

'God, he had missed that,' he thought. "Well, I wanted to talk to you. It's been almost a year and you can't even talk to me?" he asked.

"A year? A year, Stabler? And why has it been a year? Let's remember who didn't want to talk to who, huh? She was almost shouting.

David Haden, in the back seat of a cab, had directed the cab to stop when he'd seen Olivia standing on the sidewalk yelling at a man, whom he eventually recognized as Elliot Stabler. He'd climbed out of the taxi midblock, groceries in hand, and was hurrying down the block towards them.

"I tried, Liv, I really tried….I just couldn't pick up the phone." It sounded pathetic and he knew it.

"You couldn't pick up the phone! You couldn't…" She was so angry with him, she wasn't even seeing straight. Yelling again, "Do you have any idea…" She stopped suddenly and the bag of groceries tumbled out of her arm, dropping with a crack onto the sidewalk. The bottle of scotch broke and started leaking out across the sidewalk. An apple bounced into the gutter.

David was just getting to them when she'd dropped the bag of groceries. A little thrown off by the sound of the bottle cracking, he started for a second. Olivia didn't even notice the noise. She couldn't believe his excuse was that he it was too hard to pick up the phone. Without another thought her right hand swung out and she slapped him hard across the face.

Her hand was stinging, his head had swung to the side, a red hand-print showing up on his cheek.

David was stunned by how physical this argument seemed. She had only slapped him, the contact was brief and undamaging, the their stance, the emotion radiating off both of them made him feel like he was standing in the ring of a boxing match.

"Olivia!" he reached her side, trying futilely to calm her down by placing a hand on her arm. She looked at him briefly and snarled, her face red, "Stay out of this, Haden!" before turning her attention back to Elliot. David took a step backwards. He hadn't heard the rumors about the temper his new love interest had, had never heard her called Badass Benson, and he'd been completely taken aback by the look in her eyes.

Elliot recognized the well-dressed man as the guy he'd seen shirtless and barefoot in Olivia's apartment last week. 'Haden,' she'd called him. The name sounded familiar but he couldn't place why he knew it.

"Olivia…please…" he said. "Just—"

She interrupted him "The time for requests is over, Stabler," she said, turning quickly on her heel. Elliot, not about to let her go, reached out and grabbed her arm. Unfortunately, it was her left arm, recently released from it's protective brace. In her anger, her distraction, when Olivia felt him pull on her arm she did something she hadn't done when it was dislocated or when it was put back into place: she cried out in anguish.

"Aww, owwww," she cried, as Elliot's hand sprang back in surprise. She stumbled for a moment, grabbing her left elbow with her right hand in a now familiar position.

"Hey, back off!" David steadied Olivia and stepped between the two former partners in one stride.

"What the hell was that? I barely touched you!" Elliot said to Olivia. "What the hell is wrong?" He was almost panicked, he'd never heard his partner cry out in pain like that before. Ever.

"Nothing, it's fine," she glared at him, still clutching her arm.

"Her shoulder is dislocated. Speaking of which, where the hell is that brace?" David answered for her. Olivia ignored his question, giving David an annoyed look for explaining about her shoulder for her.

"Let's go, David. Now," she said, turning again and stomping towards her building entrance. Elliot walked up next to her, matching her stride.

"Dislocated? What do mean dislocated? How did it happen?" he persisted.

Seeing that she was not going to get rid of him by just ignoring him, she said "Some goon dislocated it while holding a pistol to my head."

That stopped him short. He paled. "What! Where the hell was your partner?" he exclaimed, outraged

"He was right in front of me, with a glock to his temple. The guy dislocated my shoulder to get me to drop my weapon." She said it as if proving a point. Elliot just stood there, opening and closing his mouth.

"What's wrong, Stabler?" she said, derision profound in her tone, "Did you forget what our job was like? What did you think I've been doing all these months without you? Sitting on my couch, avoiding picking up the phone like you?" She turned and bent to pick up the paper bag of groceries, now disintegrated with alcohol. It fell apart in her hands. She growled at it in frustration and picked up what she could, dumping the entire contents into the garbage can in front of her building.

David gave Stabler one last disparaging glance, almost feeling sorry for the guy, now having seen Olivia's temper. He followed her in the building. He tried to place a comforting hand on her back, but she shrugged him off, not wanting to be comforted. As she jogged up the stairs, he tried to keep up. He noticed the tears she kept wiping away.

Still standing stunned on the sidewalk, Elliot felt like he was living in a movie. He'd just been yelled at, screamed at, by a woman on a New York City street, she'd stormed off in tears and he was reduced to an unmoving statue. He replayed what she'd said over and over. Dislocated. Goon. Partner. Pistol. Temple. He shook his head, trying to snap out of it. He heard her last words, attacking him for leaving her. He understood why she was angry; he also realized that her anger was 100% fueled by hurt. The well-dressed man who'd gone upstairs with her seemed content to let her fight her own battles. Seemed like a good idea, Elliot thought, he didn't seem like a guy who was very physical, in good shape yeah, but not physical. Not in those shoes and that suit, which probably cost as much as his rent. Haden, Haden…. He knew the name but couldn't remember why. Finally it dawned on him; David was his first name. David Haden had been an upstart ADA several years ago, last he'd heard he'd been appointed to the EADA position last year, right after the shooting. 'Very interesting choice, Liv, must be causing a few headaches at work' he thought, before realizing he was in no place to even know what she had chosen, much less have an opinion on it. Elliot felt a wave a jealousy shoot through him before he realized that he had failed, again, to have a meaningful conversation with his former partner, his friend.

Head hanging down he started walking uptown. He and Kathy had separated about 6 months ago. They'd signed the divorce papers 3 months after that. He'd gotten a small apartment in a gentrifying area of West Harlem, cheap but still safe enough that he was comfortable having his kids there. It'd been two months before he'd even began to feel normal after the shooting, but things with Kathy, already disintegrating for years, were made worse by his constant presence at home. With him in the house all the time, they were unable to cover up the problems in their marriage. The separation and subsequent divorce had been rather civil, neither of them happy at the circumstances, nor willing to make the other person more miserable by dragging things out. He had his twenty years with the NYPD, so he had his pension to fall back on, but the larger problem was what to do with his time. He'd made some overtures towards the NYPD about a part-time position, possibly at the Academy, something off the streets and things were looking promising. In the meantime, however, all he had was his thoughts to occupy himself. Lost in them, he trudged uptown the 50 blocks towards his apartment, welcoming the walk to pass the time.

Olivia let herself into the apartment, not having said a word to David since they'd left the sidewalk. She kicked the door open behind her for him, letting him know she knew he was behind her and she didn't mind his presence. The minute she was inside, she bolted for the bedroom.

David entered behind her, slowly placing the groceries he was carrying in the kitchen. He busied himself for a few minutes, giving her time to collect herself. Eventually, he wandered slowly into the bedroom and not seeing her, walked into the bathroom. She was standing in front of the mirror, still holding her arm, looking down. She wasn't crying, she wasn't doing anything, just standing. He made his steps heavy to make sure she knew he was coming and slowly reached her, putting his hands on both her shoulders, standing behind her. She didn't move, but he felt her relax into his hands ever so slightly

Finally he said "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, D. I just need a minute. I'm sorry I yelled at you," she replied.

"Don't worry about it. Hey, I'll give you some time, I'm going to run out to the market really quickly, I forgot to get some onions. Okay if I take your keys?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, knowing he hadn't really forgotten the onions. It was a front to give her some space, for which she was very grateful. He reached down and kissed the back of her neck and left the bathroom, leaving her by herself. Olivia stood for another minute, a few tears squeezing out the corners of her eyes. She finally gathered herself, took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She washed her face, changed her clothes, putting on a nice shirt and dressy jeans, the effect of which was lost when she put on the brace. Shrugging to herself that it would have to be that way, she moved into the kitchen to see what she could scrounge up to help David. She pulled out some wine glasses and a bottle of wine, and then with a second thought, found a couple of candles and lit them, dimming the lights. Maybe they could salvage the rest of this evening.

He arrived back 15 minutes later, nominal onion in his hand. Noticing the wine and the candles, "What's this?" he asked, greeting her in the kitchen, pulling her into his arms.

She shrugged. "I figured maybe we could salvage the rest of the evening. I'm sorry you had to see all of that. I..."

"Hey, you don't need to apologize to me... Olivia, I don't even pretend to understand what kind of relationship, or lack there of, you have with your old partner, but let me tell you this: I think you need to either forgive him or let him go completely, because to keep doing this to yourself...it's going to end up killing you."

She looked at him, but didn't say anything right away. She was a little annoyed with him, 'where did he get off giving her advice?' But at the same time, she realized there was a lot of truth to what he was saying. It also annoyed her, and scared her, that this man could have such a crystal clear grasp of the situation. She thought about what David had said as he washed his hands and began chopping vegetables for dinner. She opened the bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. Finally she said, without preamble, "The problem is that both options are equally painful and both are impossible."

"I'm just going to consider that little scene from earlier warning to never make you mad..." he said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't worry, David. I am sure you are completely incapable of ever making me as angry as that man can," she replied.

David chuckled along with her, wanting to keep the tone light, but he couldn't help but think that being able to get such a reaction out of Olivia Benson must mean that you meant a lot to her, and he was a little disappointed that she thought he could never do that to her.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

The next Monday at 7:05am, Olivia walked into the small diner where she'd eaten a hundred times before, but never in the past year. A quick glance around showed a few faces she still recognized, including Elliot Stabler, sitting at the end of a line of tables with a booth on the window side and chairs on the opposite. They had always agreed it was the best table, allowed a booth seat for each person with a chair for a third if there was one. He was looking intently at a plate of eggs and hadn't noticed her enter; she hadn't given him any warning that she was coming. She studied his face intently. He looked serious, down-trodden even. She felt her resolve leaving her and had to remind herself why she was here in the first place. She quietly walked across the small restaurant and slid into the seat perpendicular to her former partner. He looked up in surprise when he saw her.

"Olivia?" he said, stunned. She was wearing jeans and a grey and white striped sweater and he noticed that she had on the shoulder brace that she hadn't been wearing the week before.

"Hey, Elliot," she said simply.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I needed to come, to talk with you, because what you have been doing, cornering me in my apartment, on the street and then us screaming at each other...we can't keep doing that."

"I remember most of the yelling being one sided," he said. "I hardly got a word in."

She pressed her lips together, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

They sat in silence for a minute or so. Finally, Elliot said, "I guess I should apologize for never calling you back."

"You guess?" she said incredulously, but held her temper.

"Yeah..uh...I just couldn't...My god, Liv, I killed a child, I killed a child to protect those I loved."

"No, Elliot, you stopped an irrational person with a gun who was threatening, and had already killed, innocent bystanders."

"Still..I-"

Olivia interrupted him, "No, Elliot. Stop it. There was nothing else you could have done. I just don't understand how you dealt with it. I...I was the one person who would have understood." She stopped suddenly; she was getting angry again and didn't want this to end in her screaming again.

Olivia took a deep breath and prepared mentally for what she was going to tell him. She'd tried to tell him for weeks, months afterward, for herself as much as him. "Elliot, you need to know...I...She...Jenna heard me...It was my fault she even had a gun in the first place."

Elliot wrinkled his brow, not understanding what she was saying. "Heard you? How in the world could a teenager get a gun from you?"

He was looking closely at his partner, for the first time getting a look at her when she wasn't screaming at him. She looked as pained as he did. He regretted again how he hadn't talked with her sooner.

"One time she was in the precinct and I was saying to Fin how anyone could pick up a gun if they knew where to look, just to hang out on the corner of 165th and Broadway long enough and someone would offer you a piece. I heard someone say later, after you left, in the aftermath, that she'd gotten the gun up in Washington Heights, off the street. I...I'm sorry, Elliot. If I hadn't..." She trailed off, unable to say the words.

He stared at her in shock. He couldn't believe that she felt responsible, had felt that way for so many months. He felt guilty again for leaving her. She was much stronger than he was; he had retreated and she had stayed on the front lines. He couldn't say anything, didn't know what to say, whether to comfort her for something that wasn't her fault, to apologize for leaving her, or to try and explain his feelings. He was likewise devastated that the relationship they had that always stood up to anything, had so completely disintegrated.

Misunderstanding his silence, she asked "What did you want to talk so badly about?"

"I, uh, it had been so long, we hadn't talked..." he stumbled over his words.

"I know, that's because you never answered any of my calls."

"I know, Olivia, I know...I just wanted...I needed...I missed you."

"Eleven months, Elliot. Almost a full year! You expect me just to say I missed you back? That's not how this works! I know things were hard for you, but they were hard for me too and you LEFT ME, remember? No heads up, no goodbye, nothing."

They sat in silence again. Finally she asked him, "How are the kids?"

He was more than a little surprised at the change in direction of the conversation, but he answered, telling her all he knew about the recent activities of his kids.

She listened willingly. She'd known those kids since they were little. It was good to hear about them. She picked up something different in his tone. 'Dammit,' she thought. 'All those months and she can still read him better than anyone.'

"What else, Elliot?" she asked, wondering if he would tell her.

She opened her mouth to try and convince him, but before she could, Elliot blurted out "Kathy left me, Liv. I only get the kids on the weekends. Papers were signed 3 months ago."

Olivia stared at him with an open mouth. "Elliot...I'm sorry," she said finally. She didn't really know how to respond, she didn't know if she should sympathize or be angry because obviously the shooting had wounded more than just her and him. She also wondered if he was hoping she would take pity on him, accept him back and make things go back to how they had been before. The thought of him trying to play her make her angry, but despite her ire, she was still heartbroken for him and his family. She knew how important they were to him.

She looked at him directly. He met her eye and wondered what she was thinking. He used to be able to read a myriad of emotions on her face, but not anymore. Something had changed; She was a little harder, a little colder. He wondered briefly if she had changed, or only her reaction to him had changed. She shifted her weight, leaning back in a pose that said clearly 'I am not impressed by your grief. I have my own grief.'

"My brother had his kids taken away, then he kidnapped them from protective custody and now he's in prison." She said it simply, directly and didn't pull any punches. In her head she was also thinking, 'I ran through the woods and almost shot by a serial rapist, lost my brother and his kids, and then was held with a gun to my temple while a giant dislocated my shoulder. All without you.' Her emotions were used up, she had nothing to spare for him, not any more. She hated that her empathy for him was gone; she hated him for doing that to her.

Elliot's heart dropped into his stomach when he heard that. He knew that must have been excruciating for her to deal with. He looked at her with a pained expression, but again didn't have any words to say what he felt.

They sat again in silence, each drinking their coffee and Elliot pushing the eggs on his plate around with a fork.

Finally Elliot broke the silence. "David Haden, Liv? Really?"

She looked at him and smirked. This was more familiar territory.

"You always said you hated lawyers, especially good looking ones," he said, keeping the tone light.

"No, I said I hate defense attorneys, especially slimy ones like Trevor Langan, even if they are good looking. Haden is neither a defense attorney or slimey."

"It causing you problems at work?" he asked.

"A few backwards glances, but not really," she said.

"He makes you happy?" he asked genuinely.

She smiled softly. "Yeah, he does." She was almost surprised at how true that statement was.

Olivia gratefully drank the coffee that the waitress had brought her and decided to say her piece and get it over with. She had thought long and hard about what she was going to do. She had tussled with what David had said to her and she agreed. She had to choose between forgiving Elliot or cutting off all ties and letting him go. She wasn't really prepared to do either. She thought her decision was the right one. She had to choose whether or not Elliot was going to stay in her life and she knew that this same decision was whether or not she would be wholly happy with David. She was aware that as long as Elliot Stabler was around, there wouldn't be room for another man. If she invited him back into her life, things with David wouldn't work out. In the past, this would have bothered her, but now she simply accepted it as fact. He had left her, broken her trust, and if Elliot was around, it would be without the complete and utter understanding they used to have. Her choice was between a broken relationship with Elliot and no one else, or the chance to be with someone else completely. Since the Elliot she had known in the past was lost to her, she'd opted for the unknown option. Her trust was hard to earn and once it was lost, she wasn't in the habit of giving it back easily.

She began, "I used to wonder, used to prepare myself, for what would happen when you finally decided I wasn't worth it. I wondered for thirteen years, and then, just when I finally started to believe that it wasn't going to happen, you quit on me. No, you didn't quit on me, you quit ME. After all those years... I understood what you went through and you just decided I wasn't worth sticking around for. I understand why you quit, hell, we all do, but HOW COULD YOU just ignore me like that? After Gitano? After Eli? I helped deliver your son. I went to Long Island to convince your mother to get your daughter into treatment. I saved your life a dozen times. I almost had to prostitute myself to save your ass." She paused to get her bearings. "After 13 years, I had finally convinced myself that I mattered to someone," she muttered. She refused to make eye contact, she looked down at the table. She sipped her coffee in silence. She knew he'd been hurting too, but she couldn't get past her own hurt and sense of abandonment, she wasn't going to suck it up and sacrifice herself to take care of others. Not this time, not with him.

Elliot processed her words. They had cut him to the quick. He knew he had probably hurt her when he had cut off all contact, but he hadn't really thought, in his own grief, WHY she would think he did it. Finding out that she thought he left because she hadn't meant enough to him was heartbreaking.

"No, Olivia, it wasn't like that. It wasn't because...It wasn't...I didn't leave because of you. You did matter, so much. You were the one good thing I still had going at work, you kept me there. Trust me, if I could possibly have stayed, if there was ANY reason in this world to keep me coming back, it was you. I just couldn't do it." He couldn't figure out how to extrapolate what he felt. He didn't understand how he could have played this conversation out a million times in his head, but now that he was here, he felt tongue-tied. He looked at his former partner, a woman he used to know like the back of his hand. It had been almost a year, but she hadn't changed, not really. Her brown eyes still could haunt him, he felt himself hanging on her expression, as if a smile would change his life. Her cheeks were flushed, as if from embarrassment, but her eyes held an edge. It was a sharp edge, one of harsh realities and distrust. He also saw in her eyes something that reminded him of the Olivia he had known, the one in his memories of the good times. Without another thought, he leaned forward, catching her by surprise, and kissed her on the mouth.

Olivia didn't move, stunned. His lips were soft, hesitant even, but confident in their moves. Time was moving in slow motion. She opened her mouth in shock and he took the opportunity to adjust his mouth and tongue to hers. Her heart was pounding. Slowly, very slowly, she pulled back from him, she placed her hand on his forearm. She looked at him with wide eyes, he looked as stunned as she felt.

She said, "I also used to wonder... I wondered for 13 years, what would happen, what it would be like, if you ever tried to do that." She smiled softly to herself, as if she had a little joke inside her that no one else knew. "Well, now I know...And now it doesn't matter; it's too late," she said with a sad smile. She gave his forearm a little squeeze as she stood. "I can't do this anymore. Don't contact me again, Elliot, please." She grabbed her bag and walked out of the diner, leaving Elliot with a plate of cold eggs and a bewildered expression on his face.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_She said, "I also used to wonder... I wondered for 13 years, what would happen, what it would be like, if you ever tried to do that." She smiled softly to herself, as if she had a little joke inside her that no one else knew. "Well, now I know...And now it doesn't matter; it's too late," she said with a sad smile. She gave his forearm a little squeeze as she stood. "I can't do this anymore. Don't contact me again, Elliot, please." She grabbed her bag and walked out of the diner, leaving Elliot with a plate of cold eggs and a bewildered expression on his face. _

Olivia was walking briskly towards work, biting back tears. The back of her throat was tight and she scanned the familiar streets frantically, praying she wouldn't see anyone she knew coming or going from the station. When she reached the block she needed to turn down, she eyed the building from down the block and quickly turned the other way, towards the park. She didn't want to go in to work now, not after the scene that had just unfolded. She grabbed her phone and dialed Cragen's number. She had the personal time, she asked and it was given, no questions asked, except for her reassurance that she was okay.

She wandered through the park almost the entire day, grabbing a hot dog from vendor when she heard her stomach grumble. On her way home, she left a message for David, asking if he could come over to her apartment that night. She needed to feel a connection to someone; she felt as if she was floating untethered to the earth. By the time she arrived home, her feet were tired and she was thirsty. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and downed half of it standing in the kitchen. The water tasted good, but it wasn't helping her state of mind. Her emotions were jumbled. She was having a hard time separating the agony of Elliot leaving her and the agony of her telling him to leave her alone. She thought that it was the right thing to do, but seeing him today, seeing the devastation on his face, she realized as hard as these 11 months had been on her, they had also been hard on him. She wished he hadn't isolated himself. They could have helped each other. In fact, they were the only ones that could have helped each other. She looked at the half empty water bottle in her hand. She set it on the counter and reached instead for the bottle of whiskey she'd bought to replace the one broken on the sidewalk. She poured herself a healthy two fingers and downed it in one gulp. Then she poured herself another and dug an ice cube out of the freezer and dropped in the cup. She wandered around to the couch and plopped herself down, lost in thought. She sipped at her drink, appreciating the burn as the alcohol traveled down her throat. 'God Damn you, Elliot,' she thought. 'I will never be free of you.'

She would remember the feel of his lips forever, as if it wasn't going to be hard enough to forget him to begin with. She shivered a little at the memory and was distracted when her phone buzzed, letting her know she had a message. She finished her drink and checked the message. It was from David, letting her know he was still at work, last minute injunctions or something, but would be over as soon as he could. She replied and said he didn't need to come, she was fine. She realized at this rate she'd probably be a little drunk by the time he arrived and she didn't really want him to see her that way. He replied immediately that he was coming over anyway. She sighed and set her phone down, then got up and poured herself another drink. She'd warned him that she had baggage. Well, here it was, in full force.

The afternoon turned to dusk and then evening. Olivia ordered Chinese food, but found she didn't want to eat any of it despite not having eaten anything all day but a cup of coffee and a Central Park Hot Dog. She picked at the chicken and broccoli with another whiskey on ice beside her on the couch. Around 8pm, David buzzed from downstairs. Olivia stood to get the buzzer and felt her head spin. The drinks had finally affected her. She felt a little unsteady on her feet, but got her bearings quickly and buzzed David up. She stood waiting for his knock, feeling her head spinning. She welcomed the feeling; it gave her something to think about other than Elliot.

Finally he knocked. She opened the door for him, and greeted him briefly before turning back to sit on the couch. David looked at her peculiarly. Something was wrong.

"I ordered Chinese, there's some in the kitchen," she said. He looked over her shoulder and saw the untouched containers.

"You didn't want any?" he asked "Or were you just waiting for me?"

She smiled, "Not this time, just wasn't hungry when it got here," she replied.

"You? Not hungry? Are you sure you're all right?" He reached for her and pulled her towards him, kissing her on the lips, a chaste kiss. She smelled like whiskey.

"Why, Detective Benson," he chided in a joking manner. "Have you been drinking?"

"Is that a problem, Counselor?" she joked.

"Not particularly. What's the problem? You don't strike me as the type to get blitzed on..." he leaned forward and kissed her again to smell her breath "whiskey for no reason."

She narrowed her eyes at him. He looked back with a feigned innocent expression on his face and reached for the bottle of whiskey. He poured himself one, saying "Well, it's better to drink with a friend huh?" He reached for her glass and gestured, asking if she wanted another. She nodded affirmatively. If she was going to have to talk about this, she wanted to be uninhibited and, hopefully, intoxicated enough that she wouldn't remember the details. It definitely wasn't the healthiest way of coping, she thought. She laughed at loud at the thought, considering her past, the irony of her discomfort with drinking to escape her problems not lost on her.

David reached to rub her shoulders and she sighed with how good it felt. She leaned into him and he pulled her into a true embrace. She'd peeled off the brace when she'd gotten home from her walk and was enjoying the feel of him, unencumbered by the plastic. He finally let her go, then pulled her towards the couch, sat her down and went back to the kitchen for their drinks. He grabbed a container of the Chinese food for himself. Sitting next to her on the couch, he said "Okay, Benson, spill the beans. What has you acting like a fall down drunk, drinking to escape your problems?"

He'd meant it as a joke. Hearing him say it though, made Olivia realize what'd she'd been doing. She didn't want David to think of her like that. He saw her reaction. She'd paled and sat very, very still, then reached forward and placed her drink on the table.

"I'm not, David" she said quietly.

"Not what?" he asked, confused.

"Not a fall down drunk. Not drinking to escape my problems. I'm just...It was just...I needed a break from my thoughts." She realized her excuse was flimsy.

"Hey, I know that. This is the first time I've seen you have more than 1 or 2 glasses of wine. What's this about?" He asked, concern etched on his face.

"My mother was," she replied, looking down.

"Was what?" he asked, confused.

"A fall down drunk who drank to escape her problems, until she killed herself falling down some subway stairs."

"Oh my god. Olivia!" He rubbed his chin and mouth with one hand. "I'm so sorry. You have to know I didn't mean it like that." He reached forward and put his hand on her knee. "Really. I had no idea."

"I know, I'm sorry, David. I know you didn't mean it like that and well, here I am, three whiskeys deep..." She tried to shrug it off with a laugh, but it came out choked.

"So what made you need a break?" he asked.

"What?"

"You said you needed a break from your thoughts. How come?" He took a sip of his whiskey, then reached forward and picked up hers, handing it to her.

"I went to see Elliot."

David's eyebrows shot up, surprise evident on his expressive face. "I thought you decided you weren't going to."

"I did, but then I wanted to clear the air. I couldn't leave it like it was." She sipped at her drink slowly.

"And how did it go?" he asked, though he could already see the answer for himself.

She took a bigger drink of the whiskey. "It was horrible."

He waited and she finally went on. "He looked absolutely devastated, his wife left him, he had to move out, he's depressed. The past year has been hard on him too. He looked like a shell of the person he used to be and...and...And I am so angry with him, but now I can't help but feel sorry for him. I was much better off when I was only just pissed at him." She paused and then went on. "I was so worried about him at first, after, and then when he never answered my calls, when he quit without telling me, I just got angry at him, angry because he had hurt me. I stopped worrying about how he was. Now..." she leaned forward and rubbed her temples with both hands. "Shit...now I don't know what to think anymore." She picked up her drink and took a large swallow, almost finishing it. She shook her head as the cold liquid burned going into her stomach. She hadn't mentioned the kiss. It was very far down on the list of things that were bothering her today.

"Ah, Liv. Your empathy is going to be the death of you."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, slightly defensive, trying very hard not to slur her words.

"This guy deserted you after a tragic event, refused to answer your calls and then just shows back up out of nowhere. You sit down with him one time and all of a sudden you're seeing his point of view. You can feel bad for him, but I'm sticking to your side of the story. After quitting you cold turkey, he can wait as far as I'm concerned. You don't owe him anything."

"I do though, David. He…He was a good man. He saved my life. He taught me…he showed me that there were decent men in this world." She started getting teary and fought valiantly against the tears, but eventually lost the battle. She wiped them away angrily. "If it hadn't been for him…" She let her words trail off, leaving her thoughts unsaid.

"Oh, I bet you would have been just fine. You're amazing, Olivia, and don't sell yourself short by thinking that it's only because of what others have done for you." He leaned in to kiss her. She accepted him gladly, reaching her arms around him as he cradled her, keeping his weight mostly off of her as they laid down on the couch. She kissed him back hungrily, their tongues fighting for control. She tasted like salty tears and whiskey and her own unique scent; he found it intoxicating. Pushing him up off of her, Olivia sat and then stood, pulling David with her. He pulled her back closer to him, cradling her face and kissing her again. Her arms reached around his back, desperate for contact with his warm skin. His hands moved around her and found her waist, his hands sitting where her waist flared into her hips. He loved the feel of her curves; his hands grasped her waist, his thumbs digging into her hip bones, caressing them. She pushed her hips into him and gripped his back. There was desperation to her kiss that he hadn't felt before. She pulled back suddenly and grabbed him, pulling him towards the bedroom.

He resisted her briefly. "Olivia, are you sure? I mean..." He knew she was more than intoxicated, on both the whiskey and the heavy emotions of the day.

"Yeah, I'm sure, D. This isn't the first time we've done this..." She pulled him again towards the bedroom.

"Yeah, I know, but those times you were...you weren't..." he trailed off, not wanting to upset her again.

"What? Wasn't drunk? Yeah, I know. Doesn't change things. I'm not so plastered I don't know what I'm doing, or what I want. And right now I want you." She leaned forward and kissed him hungrily again. He responded in kind, walking with her towards the bedroom, his lips not leaving hers, him pulling her shirt halfway off as they walked. They bumped into the corner of the doorframe and they broke suddenly.

"I just don't want you to think I was taking advantage," he continued.

"Advantage? If anyone is taking advantage here it's me," she quipped. "Do you have a problem with me taking advantage of you, Counselor?" she asked, pulling him towards the bedroom.

"I think it's putting me under duress to ask me that question when you are looking at me with your shirt half off and with that look in your eye..." He narrowed his eyes at her, lust palpable in his look as he eyed her taut abdomen, the slight jut of her hip bones over her low slung pants and the curve of her breasts under a sheer black bra, exposed by her shirt that was now mostly around her neck, hampered only by the difficulty of raising her arm easily to get it off.

He bent to kiss her again, and steered her away from the doorframe and into the bedroom, where they tripped over themselves and ended up lying on the bed. They readjusted themselves and she chuckled. "Hey, I have an excuse to stumble around, what's yours?" she asked, her words still slightly slurred.

He didn't answer, just bent to finish what they had started in the other room. He slid the shirt from her arm gently, careful not to pull too hard. He ran his hand slowly down her side, thumb brushing the edge of her breast. She gasped and fumbled for his pants. He looked at her olive skin, smooth over her stomach, stretching up into her breasts. The bra was black and lacy, sheer enough that he could see through them. God she was beautiful. Her underwear matched the bra, black and just sheer enough to make it more sexy than pure nudity. He matched the lust he saw in her eyes and fell upon her.

Later on, naked and sated, they lay sprawled on her bed. She was draped part way across his chest, his hand was in her hair. She sighed contently.

"You want to tell me about your mom?" he asked, this thumbs brushing her temple gently.

"Not particularly," she replied. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know what you want to tell me, nothing more," he replied.

She gave a little shrug. "She was very successful, she was a tenured professor, but she was a high-functioning alcoholic pretty much my entire life. Couldn't lay off the vodka if her, or my, life dependent on it."

"How old were you when she died?"

"It was 10 or 11 years ago. She was leaving a bar one night and fell down the stairs of the 96th Street station of the 1 Train. It was winter, maybe she slipped on the ice." She gave another shrug. "The officers came the station, Cragen told me."

"I'm sorry, Olivia." There was another long pause as he continued to caress her temple. "Were you close?"

"Mmmm, we had a….a complicated relationship." Olivia could tell she still had some booze in her system, she normally wasn't this frank when it came to her mother. Or maybe it wasn't the booze, maybe it was that she just didn't mind sharing things with David. "She loved me, but we both knew I was why she drank and it was always the elephant in the room."

"Mmm-hmmm," he said understandingly, not really understanding at all. He was thinking 'Why in the world would someone as wonderful as Olivia Benson drive her mother to drink?' Wisely, he sensed she would tell him eventually, but not to push her now.

She got up and sauntered into the bathroom, letting him have a full view of her backside. She grabbed a glass of water and two Advil. She grinned at him as she tossed the pills in her mouth. "I'm going to try and avoid having a hangover tomorrow," she said as way of explanation.

"Ah, premedication. Wise choice," he rebutted as she climbed back into the bed.

"So how did you leave it with your partner?" he asked when she was settled against him once again.

"My former partner," she clarified. "We were always at our best when we were a little irritated with each other, when we had different perspectives on life. Now, it's as if he stopped having an opinion on things. That I can't deal with." She paused. "I told him not to contact me," she said, almost with a questioning tone. It was almost as if she wanted to ask David what he thought of that.

He was careful not to shift his weight, not to move to give her any indication of what he thought. "Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked. "I mean, you seem like you have a lot of unresolved issues with him."

"Yeah, I mean, no, I mean. Yes, there are a lot of unresolved issues. And, no, I'm not sure that's what I want, but what I do know is that when, or if, I see him again, it needs to be on my terms, not him dropping by my apartment or the precinct."

"So you will see him again?" he asked.

"Probably," she admitted. She looked up at him and couldn't read the expression on his face; it was one that she hadn't seen on him before.

She sat up suddenly, grabbing the sheet to keep herself covered. "David Haden! Are you jealous?"

"Jealous? Of Elliot Stabler? Jeez, no. I'm not jealous. The last time I saw you look at him I thought you were going to kill him with your eyes. Plus, 13 years Olivia, if something was going to happen between the two of you it would've happened already. I'm not jealous, just worried about you," he replied. She couldn't help but have a brief memory of the two of them sitting on the steps in the dark where something could have happened but nothing did. She put that out of her mind.

"Well, you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. Trust me, if I know how to handle anything on this planet, I know how to handle Elliot Stabler. It's when he's not there that I have a hard time with."

She put her head back down on his shoulder, placed her hand over his chest. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come. She felt David's hand go slack on her shoulder, his breathing change, deeper and slower. He was asleep; she was still waiting.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Olivia woke the next morning to David shaking her shoulder. He was dressed in a suit, about to leave for work. He kissed her before she was even fully awake. She stretched out like a cat and groaned. He deepened his kiss and she responded, then pulled back and said "Unless you're planning on ditching that fancy suit already, you should probably get to work. "

"One of these days we're both going to get the same day off and we're going to spend the entire day in bed," he replied.

She snorted. "We'll both be old and gray before that ever happens." She padded her way into the bathroom as David left for work. The water and Advil had worked; she was no worse for wear. Nothing a large coffee and a bagel with cream cheese couldn't fix.

Twenty-five minutes later she strolled into the precinct with a large coffee and a bagel. She set the bagel down and immediately started sorting through her messages. Amaro and Munch had both beaten her in to work that morning, something that was happening more and more often since she had started seeing David. It felt good not to care.

Grabbing the important messages and sorting through the files on her desk looking for the important ones, she looked up when she saw Munch approach her desk.

"Feeling alright this morning Benson?" he asked vaguely.

"Yeah, Munch. Why?" She narrowed her eyes at him. Amaro looked up from his desk, amused by the interaction between the two senior detectives.

"The only time you come in here with food first thing in the morning is when you've had one, or more, too many the night before," she said conspiratorially.

She gave him a disparaging look. "How do you know that?" she asked.

"I'm a detective. I pay attention." Munch said. Now Nick was full on grinning.

"Well, sometimes your _detective _skills are annoying. Quit being so nosy." She waved a manila file at him.

"Ah, see!" Munch said, gesturing to Amaro. "Now she doesn't want to talk about it. Basically confirmation of our suspicions."

"Get outta here, Munch. We have work to do." She chuckled and picked up the phone to return one of the messages. She looked across her desk at Nick, who simply raised an eyebrow at her, as if he was completely innocent. They were both interrupted when Cragen hollered from his office that they had another case, one that would require all of their attention.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

They were working this case almost 24-7. She'd gone home and caught a few hours sleep and as she was dragging herself back to the precinct at 6am she wished she had just slept in the cribs. At least she'd gotten a shower and a tooth brushing. She quickly got up to speed and Fin gladly headed upstairs to sleep, having stayed during the overnight shift.

In the middle of the afternoon, they were debriefing in the middle of the squadroom. She was going toe-to-toe with Fin and Amaro about how to approach their suspect. Frustrated, she stormed off to one of the file rooms to get some background information that she thought could help. Fin sighed and went to grab a coffee, grumbling under his breath at the poor quality of coffee that his partner made.

Nick was studying the display board when a woman holding a small boy by the hand approached him. She walked right into the bullpen, but looked almost hesitant.

"Can I help you?" he asked gently. You never know who was terrified to be there, was there to make a report.

"Hi, yes, please, I need to talk to Olivia Benson?" the woman asked.

"Um," Nick looked around, not seeing his partner. "She just stepped out a minute. Can I help you with something?" he asked.

"No, I really just need to talk with Olivia," the woman insisted. Just then Fin came around the corner from the kitchenette.

"Kathy! Hey!" he said, surprised and friendly.

Nick felt stupid. Clearly he had missed something. Again.

"Hey Fin. Good to see you."

"You too Kathy, you look good. And Eli! My man, how you doin'?" The detective lifted his hand to give the small boy a high five, which he gave shyly.

"I need to talk with Olivia, Fin," she said.

Fin nodded, lips pressed together. "Yeah, okay," he said simply, not asking any questions. He had no idea what was going on and he wasn't going to butt in. "Go on up to the cribs, I'll tell her to meet you up there."

She gave him a small smile, "Thanks, Fin."

"Hey, Eli. Your pops always let you kids get a snack from the vending machine. Wanna come with me for a treat while your mom has a talk?" The boy grinned and nodded and looked to his mom for permission. She smiled and said "Go ahead," and Eli ran to Fin. He plopped the boy in his desk chair and said "You wait here and I'll be right back and we'll get a snack."

Walking towards the file room, he said to Amaro "Keep an eye on the kid until I get back."

Nick nodded his understanding and watched as the woman walked toward the cribs; she knew exactly where they were. The boy sat on Fin's chair, his short legs swinging back and forth. Fin and Olivia reentered the squadroom and Nick saw her look at Eli and her eyes soften as she took him in. Then she jogged up the stairs towards the cribs.

Fin approached the boy and he jumped up, grabbed Fin's hand and they walked towards the vending machines. A few minutes later they were back, Eli with a soda, a bag of chips and a candy bar.

Nick looked at Fin. "A snack, huh? If someone gave all that sugar to my kid I'd be a little unhappy."

Fin shrugged, "Hey, I get to be the irresponsible uncle figure; I make the kid happy, I win." He looked down at Eli who was alternatively eating the chips and the chocolate bar.

Upstairs, Olivia took a deep breath and opened the door to the cribs. She saw Kathy Stabler standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, arms crossed in front of her. "Kathy?" she asked.

"Hi Olivia," the woman said.

"It's uh, good to see you. I saw Eli. He's grown so much!" Olivia said.

"I know, I can hardly believe it myself sometimes," Kathy said.

"Kathy, what are you doing here?" Olivia asked.

"Uh, I uh, I wanted to talk to you. Talk to you about Elliot." She looked at the detective, a woman she had both trusted implicitly with her husband's life and been terrified of, afraid she would steal her husband's heart. "He uh, he told me he saw you. That he met him at the diner. He, uh, told you we were separated."

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, he told me. I'm sorry, Kathy. I uh.."

Kathy went on, "He told me you don't want to see him ever again. Please, Olivia, give him a chance. He's…he's different. Broken…He's not the same man…"

"I know, Kathy, I do. I could see it, but I need to be able to live my life too. I can't do that if I think he's just going to…."

"Please, just think about it. Just don't shut him out completely," she pleaded.

"That's what he did to me, Kathy. He ran from me, to you, to his family, because he thought that was what he needed. I had blood on my hands too, literally and figuratively and maybe I needed him. Maybe I needed him and I didn't have a family to fall back on. He left me and then you left him." She had her arms crossed in from of her, as if she was cold.

Kathy looked at her in surprise. Every other time she had seen Olivia, she had been friendly, professional, _controlled._ Kathy had never seen this woman emotional. She thought she had known her, mostly from Elliot's stories, but Kathy realized she really had no idea what Olivia was really like.

"I did. I did leave him, Olivia, but don't pretend it was completely one-sided. You know that. He did leave you. He came to us thinking he could get away from it, but he couldn't. He ran from the one thing, the one _person_ who he needed. I'm not so blind that I couldn't see that. You always understood his work…you understood Work Elliot in a way I never could. I was always hopeless to counsel Work Elliot. He needed you and he wouldn't call you no matter what I said. Please, Olivia, he finally did, don't run on him now."

"Ah, Kathy, I don't know…."

"I didn't sign the papers, Olivia," she said, almost as if she was confessing.

"What papers?" Olivia asked, confused.

"The divorce papers. Elliot signed them. All I had to do was sign the last one and mail them in but I couldn't…I just couldn't, not when I knew his mindset. I'm not saying it's not headed that way, but I couldn't do that to him when he was still dealing with the shooting."

"Kathy! You have to tell him. What good is not divorcing him if he doesn't know it?"

"I know, I know. I will. But please, Olivia, tell me you will see him again. Please," she pleaded.

Olivia wondered if she should tell Kathy about the kiss. She decided not too. The feelings that had fueled that kiss had not suddenly appeared in the last few months, they'd been simmering for years. No reason to hurt another person; enough people had already been damaged by this debacle.

"Okay," Olivia said. "Okay, I'll go see him, but please don't tell him. I need to do this my own way, not his way, not this time."

Kathy nodded, understanding. Elliot always wanted to do things his way. Kathy let out a breath, all the tension leaving her body with the air. "Thank you," she said. She walked towards the door and Olivia followed her out. At the bottom of the stairs, Kathy waved to Eli, who jumped off the chair and grabbing his candy, his chips and the bottle of soda, he made his way to his mother, who took the bottle of soda from him before he dropped it. "Really, Fin?" she asked the detective, exasperated.

"Hey, you've seen those machines. What did you expect?" he replied nonchalantly.

"Fine, but if he pukes in the car, I'm blaming you."

"Good to see you Kathy!" he waved. She waved good-bye as did Eli as she dragged him towards the elevator. Olivia stood at the bottom of the stairs watching them go and shook her head. 'What the hell was she doing?' she was thinking. She gave her head one more shake and went immediately back to the file room to finish her research.

Just as Kathy was disappearing into the hallway, Cragen came out of his office to yell at everyone about something. When he was done berating them into working faster, he eyeballed Olivia standing on the stairs. He turned to Fin and Nick and said "Was that Kathy Stabler I just saw leaving this room?"

Nick turned in surprise to Fin, he'd had no idea who that woman was. "Yeah, Cap, sure was," Fin replied.

"What'd she want?" the bald Captain asked.

"To talk to Olivia. I sent 'em up to the cribs."

"Well, I'll be damned," Cragen said. "Something is going on…"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Benson! Amaro! My office!" Cragen's voice shot through the air. If Olivia hadn't been so wrapped in the files she was reading she would have jumped. As they made their way across the room, Cragen gestured to Rollins and Fin, who had just come from interrogation.

The four detectives crammed into the office, with Fin still hovering in the doorway, unwilling to crush the crowd to get inside.

"After the Chrisky debacle, and the Soto affair, both of which got horrible press, the DAs office is looking into past cases, particularly those where the sentence was heavy and innocence was proclaimed. Things are going to get messy around here." Cragen looked at his detectives, Benson and Amaro were practically rolling their eyes at him.

Fin spoke up, "So they're going to be crawling down our backs with permission this time." He swore, grumbling under his breath.

"I have complete faith in my detectives that they aren't going to find anything wrong, unusual or suspicious. And this won't change one thing about how we do things around here, because there is nothing to change when we do things properly all the time. Am I right?"

He got a chorus of affirmatives from the crowd. "Good, now get back to work," he growled. As they all turned to leaved, Olivia was the last one out.

"Benson," he called, getting her to stay behind. "It's a big deal for whoever they plug to lead this new committee. Word is it'll be Haden. That going to be a problem?"

She raised her eyebrows in a look of half surprise and have 'what do you expect'. It was a look Cragen couldn't quite interpret. After all these years she could still hide behind a curtain when she wanted to. He thought the look might have something to do with her expecting the other shoe to drop down on her eventually. "No, no problem," she said blandly as she walked out the door.

Don sighed and rubbed his face. 'That woman deserves so much more that she has, yet she accepts her fate as if she never deserved anything more,' he thought. He hoped some day she would figure out that she needed to fight for herself more often, and others a little bit less.

Olivia put that little nugget of information away in the back of her mind. They had a job to do today and it didn't involve obsessing over their jobs or her boyfriend. She had to focus on the streets, lack of focus is what gets you into trouble.

Later that night she entered her apartment, exhausted. She was glad she had grabbed some food at work, because she was far too tired to try and find something to eat now. Wandering in to the bedroom, she flopped onto her bed, enjoying the sensation of being off her feet and relaxed. She thought about what Cragen had told them that morning. She glanced at the clock, the red numbers on the bedside table read only 9:56. Not too bad, as long as you didn't consider she'd been at work since 7am. She pulled out her phone and dialed Haden. He picked up immediately.

"Hey, you home finally?" he answered the phone without a traditional greeting.

"Yeah, finally," she said in a drowsy voice.

"You want me to come over?" he asked.

"I have be back in," she groaned, "eight hours. Don't bother, get some real sleep and let me live vicariously."

"Alright, but let me know if you change your mind."

"I'm planning on being asleep in less than 10 minutes. Can't change your mind if you're asleep."

She heard him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You work too hard, Detective."

"Yeah, well, I like it that way," she retorted.

There was a brief pause. "Hey D?" her voice was almost hesitant now. Downtown in his own apartment, he could feel the shift of the conversation.

"I heard about the new committee, the one investigating past convictions, in response to the guy they cleared on new evidence."

"Uh huh, that kind of came out of nowhere," he said. She wondered if he meant the idea for the committee or her comment.

"You're going to be the lead, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. He didn't bother to lay down false caveats or explanations.

She sighed audibly. "You couldn't have told me? I know this didn't just pop up today, it's been in the works since Soto. You couldn't have told me you'd be looking into all my past cases," despite her fatigue, she was riled up.

"I did want to tell you, Liv," he protested.

"I had to hear it from my boss, and then have him question my ability to do my job. You couldn't have given me a head's up?"

"Is that what you would rather have had happen? Your boss tells you the DAs office is looking into some old cases and you say, oh, yeah, the guy _I'm sleeping with_, they guy who is _doing the investigation _told me last night while my ankles were next to his ears? Come on, Olivia. I'm trying to keep this separate as much as you are and it's not easy on my side either."

"Is it going to be a problem?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. But it's a damn good thing we disclosed before this. Now we can truthfully ask others to take over if it get's complicated, or at least I can. I have an ADA doing most of the files, just tossing me the ones that are an issue. And that, I promised I will give you a heads up on."

"You're assuming that you will find something dirty on me," she said accusingly. "I'm a good cop, David!"

"I know, that's not what I meant! Look, you're exhausted, I can hear it in your voice. Let me come over for dinner tomorrow?"

"Okay. See you then." She clicked down the receiver and didn't hear his sweet platitudes on the other end.

She stumbled to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, stripping off clothes in the process. She padded her way back to the bed, now dressed only in a tank top and underwear and crawled into the bed. She thought it felt delicious. Unfortunately, her mind was not as fatigued as her body and was running marathon's throughout the night. She finally drifted off about 1am.

The next day's work was mercifully short and Olivia found herself making her way home just before 7pm. She grabbed a bottle of wine and a six-pack of beer from the corner market and got home with enough time to shower before David showed up.

She'd poured herself a glass of the wine and was reading last month's issue of a gossip magazine at her bar when she heard David knock. She opened the door for him after confirming his presence at the peephole. He dropped his briefcase and gym bag just inside the doorway and grabbed her by both elbows, kissing her hard and furious. She pulled away and he broke the kiss, but still held her by the elbows, he looked at her frantically. He was scanning her, looking for something. He must have found it because his eyes finally stopped moving over her. He was glaring intently at her neck.

"David, what the hell?" She pushed his arms off of her and he was surprised by the strength and vehemence of her reaction. He knew she was strong, was trained to run and fight and defend herself. But _feeling _it was difference. His hands almost burned where she had broken from his grasp.

"Liv. Sorry. I-" he tried to explain the cacophony of his emotions and couldn't.

"It's okay, D. What's wrong?" She looked at him, her brown eyes scanning him back and forth; something was bothering him. She had never seen him look upset like this. She'd seen him take on the Feds, the Military Industrial Complex, the Mayor's office and _her_ but she'd never seen him shaken.

He grabbed his bags and pulled them further into the living room where he shed his coat as well.

"This partner of yours, Amaro. He's a good cop?"

"Nick? Yeah, of course."

"You trust him? With your life?"

"Yeah, he's proven himself more than once. What's this—"

"But he's not as good as Stabler…"

"Well, whauh? He's different than Stabler. Stabler and I were…we were different."

"But Amaro, he's got you? I need to know."

"David! What the hell are you talking about?" She was pissed.

He reached down and pulled out a few manila folders and tossed them angrily on the counter of the bar. "They pulled the files. I picked up just a few to review, so I'd be familiar with the format, the scope of information we'd be getting. I only read 10 of them Liv! Ten!"

She was totally confused. Was he pissed at her? At her work? What did Nick have to do with anything? What files had he been reading? Suddenly a thought struck her. 'Oh god, no?' she thought. 'Not that one. Not now.' She paled and swayed on her feet for a minute. Haden was wrapped up in whatever soliloquy he had going on and didn't notice her pale face and panicked eyes.

He was going on, "In this one, you got chased through an alley and then knocked practically unconscious by a guy with a Glock 9." He picked up and then slammed the file folder down on the counter and then picked up another. "In _this_ one you get poisoned by some unknown pesticide that gave a kid _cancer_ and spend the night in the hospital." He slammed the second folder down. "And this one! This one, Olivia!" He spat her name out at her, "This one some psychopath sliced your neck open, missing your carotid artery by millimeters. Millimeters!" He slammed the last folder down. "And that was out of only ten! God, Olivia! Where they hell was your partner? Wasn't he supposed to be keeping you safe? Where the hell was he? How often does this happen?" He turned at looked at her, finally seeing the reaction that his yelling had gotten out of her. It wasn't what he had gotten in the past. They had always been fire and heat and anger when they had argued, not this pale, drawn panic.

Olivia let out all the air she had been holding and gripped the side of the counter, turning her fingertips white. It wasn't here. He didn't have that file. She was relived and angry all at the same time. She looked down at the files. Moto. Rosales. Gitano.

"What the hell do you have this for? It wasn't a conviction?" she asked, stalling for time.

"It was a mistake. We wanted Gitanelli," he replied.

"Why'd you read it?" she asked.

"It was the top of the stack, I was curious."

"You were curious? You were curious?" Her voice was hushed and low, barely above a hiss. "I have spent hours and hours and days and days trying to _forget_ what is in those files, _particularly_ what is in that file and you read it because you were _curious?" _ She was suddenly sickened by him. She took a step back, fighting the nausea.

"I didn't know, Olivia. I didn't know about the case, it was before my time, I was working major cases and white collar at the time. I didn't know. Believe me, I didn't know. I wish…I wish I have never known…."

Her posture softened toward him. He reached out and gingerly touched the scar on her neck. _That_ was what he had been looking for earlier. The contact snapped her out of her zone.

"For the record, in the alley Stabler was just ahead of me. The guy took me out because I happened to have the rear that time. The gas I was there on a simple witness interview. We don't go in with back-up and Kevlar to talk to a rape victim and a little boy." She stopped, trying to gather herself before venturing into Gitano.

"And the other? The train station?" David pushed her.

She wrinkled her eyebrows. The pain from that case never ended, it hurt worse and longer than that cut ever had. "We were all there, in the train station, Fin and Munch, Cragen even. He had the boy, I tried to get him to come to me. I was going after the kid….had to…Stabler was going after the girl. He had to choose. You read about how that case ended? Why there wasn't a trial?"

He nodded, anger and frustration suddenly gone watching her try to recount these horrors, regretting he'd brought them up. "That was the beginning of the end, for me and Stabler."

He looked at her quietly. He didn't quite understand what she meant by that. Probably there was something that wasn't written in the file. Whatever it was, he was sure he didn't want to know.

"God, I'm sorry Olivia. I mean, I know what you do for a living, I know what a cop sees, goes through. I've tried a hundred cases with horrific atrocities. I've read about the risks city cops face, but JEEZ! It's different when I'm staring at it in my face. It's different when it's YOU. It's different when I come home and see the scars on your skin." He reached out and touched the smooth skin of her face, neck, placing his hand on her shoulder, thumbing her collarbone. "I have to know that the guy who's watching you knows what he's doing."

"He does," she said firmly. She fervently hoped this would be the end of the conversation.

"How many more are there? How many more files where I might have to read about how some piece of filth is stabbing you or shooting you or knocking you unconscious with a 2x4?"

She just stared at him, not answering. She didn't know, she didn't count. She couldn't reassure him, couldn't reassure him that it wouldn't happen again.

"This is my job, Haden. I'm good at it. I can handle it and so can my partner." She turned then and walked towards the bathroom, swinging the door shut firmly but not exactly quietly, effectively ending the conversation for good.

In the bathroom, she leaned up against the door, head tilted back. Burning tears sprung to her eyes. She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, reaching for a glass to take a drink of water. Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking. She set down the glass and the clunk of the glass on the counter sent her spinning back into the prison. She heard his nightstick slamming against the bars of the cells. She pushed down the feeling of panic and leaned over and turned on the water full blast. She had the small clock radio on the counter that she sometimes played while she was in the shower and she turned it all full blast. Anything to block out that noise. Finally, Olivia opened her eyes and took several deep breaths. She shut off the radio and turned off the water. She looked in the mirror and straightened her shoulders and turned to face the man in the other room. At least she thought there was a man in the other room. He might have left, realized she was a hot mess and should be alone, lest she bring others down with her. As she exited the bathroom into the bedroom and then into the living room, she smelled something burning, no, not burning. Something delicious. She turned to see David in the kitchen, frying up something. A large salad sat on the counter already, a wine glass in his hand matched the one she had left on the counter. She smiled softly, relieved.

She walked into the kitchen and hugged him from behind. He set down the spatula he'd been using to flip the two small steaks and enveloped her. Breaking away slowly, he reached and handed her the wine glass. She took it and tried a small sip, then set it down on the counter.

"David?" she said. "I need you to promise me something."

"What is it?" he asked.

"What, no blanket promises for anything I could ever want or need?" she joked blackly.

"Hey, I take my promises very seriously and want to make sure I can follow though before I promise anything. You should prefer I mean it when I promise something rather than promising you an Upper West Side rent-controlled two bedroom apartment with a parking spot and a washer dryer, which I can't get you," he said back, half joking. "So what do you need?" he asked, serious this time.

"Sooner or later," and she knew that it _would_ happen, "Sooner or later you are going to come across a file. The name is Harris, Lowell Harris. I need you to promise me, PROMISE ME, that you will not open that file without telling me first."

"Okay…why?"

"Because I asked, and I only ask because it is very, very important. The case is a strong case, the strongest possible, it won't come up for review according to your committee standards, but I need you to PROMISE me you won't review it without warn…without telling me first." She blurted it out.

"Okay. No problem. Now, let's eat!"

"I knew there was a reason I liked you, Haden. You are a MUCH better cook than I am…" she grinned at him.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The next day the precinct was humming by 11am, everyone who had been off had been called in to find two missing teenagers. They'd found a witness, and a collaborator to the suspect, who still remained at large. Fin and Munch were taking a go at him in Interrogation Room 1 while Cragen, Haden, Benson and Amaro stood outside the glass, watching.

"Tell him we're charging him with obstruction, aiding and abetting assault, kidnapping and attempted murder, if not full out murder. Tell him we'll get him on 25 years of hard time unless he cooperates. I can make that stick." Haden said it with emphasis. Olivia was entranced by the scene in the room, she barely heard him. Cragen nodded and knocked once on the door to get the attention of the detectives. Munch came and had a word with Cragen and then headed back in, telling their suspect what he just heard.

Within minutes of Fin telling him what to expect while he was doing hard time, the guy was crying his secrets, begging to be helpful. Haden turned, expecting to see Cragen and Olivia, but only seeing Amaro next to him.

Suddenly Cragen appeared at the end of the hallway, "Amaro, let's go. We got the address. Liv has your vest." He disappeared quickly. Nick hurried toward the door that led to the bullpen. Haden followed at his heels. Right before entering into the large, open room, Haden grabbed his elbow.

"Hey, Amaro, a minute please?" Nick stopped and both men glanced for a minute into the bullpen, where Olivia was pulling on her Kevlar vest and a jacket, Nick's in a pile on his desk.

"Yeah, what'dyu need?" Nick asked, slightly impatiently.

"Benson…you got her back?" Haden asked.

"Every minute of every day," Amaro replied, slightly defensively. He meant he had her back at work, every day, and didn't appreciate being questioned about it. And he meant he had her back when she was not at work, which was to say, with him, and Nick knew where his loyalties lay.

Understanding the meaning, Haden nodded. "Good," he grunted softly. "You bring her home safe to me." He clapped the younger man once on the back and strode out into the bullpen, nodding once to Olivia on his way out.

Nick stood wide-eyed for a moment. 'All be damned,' he thought. He followed into the bullpen, grabbing his vest from his desk and put it on while he was striding up towards Amanda, who had just sat down. He got very close to her and said in a low voice, but not a whisper. "I want my Coke back."

"What?" she said, perplexed. "No way, that was a fair bet."

"Nope, those two are not simply bangin'," Nick said. "He is full on in love with her." They both looked at Olivia strapping on her vest.

"Let's go, Amaro, quit slacking," she called.

"Do you think she knows?" Amanda asked quietly.

"I have no idea," Nick replied. He swiped the cold soda Rollins had on her desk, and ignored her protests as he followed Olivia out the door.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

In the sedan on the way to the address, Olivia was driving at least 10 mph over the speed limit, which was at least 20 mph over what the rest of traffic was doing. Amaro was holding onto the door handle in terror. "Jeez, Liv. Be careful!" he said.

"I am careful, Amaro. Time is of the essence. Hold on tighter if you're scared," she retorted. "This is why I don't let you drive. We'd still be on the Upper West Side if you were driving."

"Yeah, but we'd get there in one piece. Ack!" Nick grabbed the handle again as his partner swerved to avoid a double-parked truck. "How many cars have you wrecked?"

"Me? I've only ever been in one wreck and it wasn't my fault. I grew up in Manhattan, I know how to drive in this city; it's all about the perfect balance of aggression and defense." Olivia defended her driving record vehemently.

"Famous last words. What happened?" he asked, figuring it was a topic of conversation that would keep his mind off his current mortal peril.

"What?"

"Your car wreck, what happened?" he asked.

" Ah…" She was thinking 'How they hell do you even explain that accident.' "I got t-boned by a drunk driver going 45 down 56th Street at 3 o'clock in the afternoon."

"Whoa, musta been some wreck. You weren't hurt?" he asked, innocently treading into dangerous waters.

'Emotional scars last a lot longer than physical ones,' she thought. "Just a bump on the head, everyone ended up fine," she replied.

"Obviously," he cracked a smile at her, as he braced himself on the floor and grabbed the handle again.

Sensing that topic was used up, he thought about switching to one he knew would keep his mind off of his partner's erratic driving. Olivia swung the car around the corner onto Houston barely keeping the tires from squealing. "Oh my god! Olivia! I'm going to have to call my wife and tell her she's not the only one who deserves hazard pay."

"Calm down, Amaro, I don't even have the sirens on. I have to obey the traffic laws."

"THIS is obeying the traffic laws? I wonder what Haden would think about that?" It slipped out before he'd even had a chance to think about what a horrible idea this was. Upside though, it got his mind off of what he was sure was certain death.

"What would Haden care, or even KNOW, about my driving?" she pushed back.

"I dunno. I heard he might have a personal interest in you…." He ventured.

She lifted a single eyebrow at him and looked at him from across the car.

"And who exactly did you hear that from?" she was betting on him saying Rollins.

"Haden," he said, raising an eyebrow back.

She screeched to a halt at a red light. She turned to him, "What did he say to you?"

"Wanted to double-check that I had your back, apparently he's not so keen on the idea of you being stabbed and shot at on a regular basis." Olivia made a face, almost disparaging. "Nick, I'm really sorry he gave you a hard time. I…."

Nick was a little surprised by her acknowledgement. He was expecting a denial, or at least a stonewall.

"What, no vehement denial?" he joked.

"Ha," she said. "Like I could. Rollins is spreading gossip around the squadroom, Haden's cornering my partner…" she was grumbling to herself.

"Liv, it was no big deal…I think it was kind of sweet. That guy is head over heels for you, you realize that, don't you?"

She started a little at that. 'How good ARE these new detectives?' she thought.

"Counselor Haden is still getting used to the idea that I pay my rent by doing a job that occasionally puts me in harms way. Apparently, by the reaction I got last night, he does not like it."

"Flipped out, did he? I did that the first time my wife said she identified an IED."

She looked at him curiously, asking him in her expression. "An IED," he repeated. "Improvised explosive device. They're hidden in the dirt, usually impossible to defend against and devastating if they get you, or your vehicle. The first time she told me, I flipped out. It was as if she was a sitting duck, with no defense, no team behind her. I got over it. Haden will too. Plus, he has me looking out for you, huh?" He looked over at her. She had her eyes on the rearview mirror, made two quick lane changes and swung into an available parking space in one motion.

She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "Okay," Nick admitted, "so you can parallel park," he relented, thanking his lucky stars as he climbed out of the car.

"Hey, Nick?" she asked. He looked back at her, bent down from outside the car. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Benson. You tell Haden I keep my promises."

Olivia didn't respond to that, she was deep in thought. She had made a promise too, to have someone's back, even when that person didn't have hers.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The collaring of this suspect went without incident; it was one of the easier takes Olivia could remember. She made a mental note to tell Haden, to try and convince not every guy was trying to shoot her dead. Then she grimaced and remembered that she couldn't tell Haden anything that might tint his perspective in the future.

Back at the precinct they were wrapping up their paperwork, waiting for transport to take their guy to Rikers. Olivia was scanning the shift schedule and thought there was a terrific opportunity here. Seeing Munch get up to get a cup of coffee, she approached him. "Munch, I need a favor…" After several minutes of negotiation, both of them walked away satisfied.

On her way home in a cab, Olivia dialed Haden.

"Hey there," he answered. "How are you?"

"Fine, David. Stop acting like I'm going to get murdered every day."

"Right, sorry. How'd it go?" he asked.

Keep it vague, she reminded herself. "Went well, no complications. Hey, so remember the other day when we were discussing how we'd never get a whole day off together?"

"Yeeahhhhh? I think I'm going to like where this is going."

"So, I'm off on Sunday, and I'm scheduled to be on-call…" she began. "Which I have learned means you'll get called in no matter what in this city, in THAT department…"

"Yeah, well, he drives a hard bargain, but I got Munch to take my call. I'm off from Saturday night until 11am Monday, free and clear."

"Indeed. And are you telling me this because you intend to spend the day with me."

"Maybe," she teased. "Maybe I just wanted you to know I'm off work but not spending it with you."

"Yeah, right. Benson, I plan on getting you into my bed on Saturday night and not letting you out until Monday morning at 1059."

"Uh huh, last I checked that is considered kidnapping."

"Only if you're not a willing participant."

"Good night, David."

"Night Olivia."

She loved the way he said her name. His voice was like butter. She snapped the phone closed and grinned to herself.

Saturday night came and Olivia grabbed a cab home, thanking Munch one last time for taking her call. Breezing out of the precinct, Munch and Amaro watched her run. Munch shook his head. Amaro said "You know where she's going, right?"

"I don't wanna know, Nick. All I know is I haven't seen her show interest in anything that makes her happy in a long time, so as long as she keeps smiling like that..."

Amaro processed that. Suddenly he asked, "Have you ever ridden in a car with her?"

"With Benson? Rarely. I value my pathetic life. She scare the crap outta you?"

"Sheesh, man, she flew across three lanes of traffic and made a turn onto Houston going at least 30 miles per hour. I didn't think I was going to live to see my kid again."

"Yeah...Stabler never used to let her drive. Pissed her off to no end because she's never put a scratch on a car and Stabler dinged one up at least once a week."

"She told me she was in a wreck a couple of years ago."

"Yeah, but that guy was drunk and...Hey, she told you about that?" Munch asked suddenly.

"Yeah, said she got T-boned by a drunk driver, bump on the head, everyone was fine."

"Way to smooth over that story, Liv..." Munch mumbled. "That's one way to put it. She didn't tell you the whole story though..."

"The whole story? Whaddyu mean?"

Munch took a cup of coffee and sat back at his desk. He twisted his lips, trying to decide how much to tell this guy. "So there's this case, this custody battle and Stabler goes upstate to collar the guy, forgetting that his wife's doctor's appointment is that afternoon. She's like 11 months pregnant so Liv offers to take her. This guy just comes out of nowhere, T-bones them on the passenger side. Liv's knocked out, huge good egg on her head bleeding down her face, but Kathy...Kathy's trapped and goes into labor. They finally get her out but she delivers that baby right in the ambulance, medic hands him over to Liv, who's still bleeding from her head. Then Kathy starts bleeding out...They got her back, Stabler got back from upstate. I found Liv in the waiting room 3 hours later, still covered in blood, hers and the baby's and Kathy's. It was nothing if not dramatic."

"Good grief, she sure has a knack for downplaying these things. She made it sound as if it was just a little knock on the head. Why didn't she just tell me that?"

"Yeah, well, that's Liv for you. That one won't tell you anything close to her unless she is completely under duress. Sometimes she needs to be forced, ya know?"

"Yeah...I think I know..." Nick replied.

"We have our demons. Mine make me a sarcastic conspirist, Stabler's made him angry, Liv...Liv's make her downplay her own emotions, sacrifice for others at all cost."

"HmmmMmm," Nick replied, thinking about how she had tried to downplay the significance of the scars on her back. "She won't be upset you told me all that about the accident?"

"Nah, everyone knows that story. You should hear Stabler tell it. Makes it sound like she swooped in like an angel and saved his wife and baby."

"You know, all the stories I hear about the guy just don't jive with what I know about him," Nick said, turning back towards his desk.

"What does that mean?" Munch asked, skeptical and curious.

"Well, all the stories have this Stabler guy being committed, dedicated, a good friend, someone Olivia actually TALKED to, but all I really know about him is that he left here without so much as a goodbye and now Olivia won't talk to ANYONE."

"Yeah, it's pretty messed up, even for Stabler. I never could understand

their relationship, best I could do was be there when she needs someone."

"Does she ever?"

"Ever what?"

"Need someone?"

"Everyday I think, but she never lets anyone know it.".

Olivia changed her clothes at her apartment, shedding her clothes and washing her face, trying to clean the last vestiges of her job off of her. She started to pull on her jeans and suddenly changed her mind, digging through her drawer until she found what she was looking for. It was light pink and lace and the most ridiculously uncomfortable thing masquerading as underwear she had ever seen; it was completely unlike what she normally wore. Unbeknownst to the rest of the squad, Olivia Benson had a penchant for lingerie. It made her feel in control, confident. She drew the line at something that was uncomfortable and non-functioning though. Luckily, tonight she didn't think she needed anything that was too perfunctory. She pulled on her jeans and top, slipped on her heels and threw a couple of necessities in her overlarge purse and headed out. She grabbed a cab downtown towards David's Lower East Side condo, giving him a text to let him know she was on her way.

He opened the door to her, handing her a glass of wine as soon as she was in the door.

"Prepared. My kind of guy."

He looked at her closely. "You're tired," he said.

"Well, yeah, but I'm always tired. I'm not ALWAYS looking forward to a whole 36 hours of uninterrupted freedom," she said.

"So we'll go low-key tonight," he said. "Sound okay?"

"Sure, how low-key are you talking? Take out in our underwear?" she joshed, sipping her wine.

"Not quite that low-key. I was thinking Thai food at the place around the corner and then the new bar down the street for some beers."

"THAT is a plan I can get behind," she said, as her stomach grumbled.

Hearing her stomach too, he said "You wanting to eat sooner, rather than later?" He turned around to look at her, but she'd already kicked off her heels and had settled onto the couch.

"After the wine," she said, "Let's just sit for a minute."

He grabbed his wine and joined her.

They headed to dinner about an hour later and then wandered into the bar. They grabbed two seats at the bar just as another two people were leaving and ordered beers. Before they knew what was happening, the bar that had been lively and busy when they arrived had turned loud and packed.

"When did that happen?" David asked her, turning around in surprise as he heard a loud laugh from a group of people who'd just taken a shot.

"I have no idea," Olivia replied. She was looking for the bartender.

"You want to go, or..." David asked her.

"Well, if you want to, I'll go, but I was thinking more if you can't beat them, join 'em," she said. She finally got the bartender's attention and ordered two more beers.

By the time they were calling it a night, the bar had emptied out a little bit, but was still packed. Their seats were taken immediately. Olivia stood on the curb giggling as David tried to hail a cab. She hollered at him and he came back to the curb.

"What?" he protested. They were both intoxicated, she couldn't stop laughing at the scene.

"First of all, you live 7 blocks from here. Second, it's Saturday night, everyone knows no guy can catch a cab on the Lower East Side on a Saturday night after 1am and its now 2:25am. We can walk."

"But there is no way you can walk in those heels," he protested.

"Oh, you noticed these, huh?"

"I have indeed appreciated those, especially the legs they are attached to, but I can't imagine you'll want to walk in them," he said.

"Whatever," she rolled his eyes at him. "Let's go," she started down the street. They tipped slightly against each other and started laughing again.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," she said. She looked towards the upcoming traffic and threw up her hand. Immediately, a cab screeched to a halt.

She smirked at him, "See," she said.

Now it was his turn to grumble, "Whatever." Then the cab driver grumbled about only driving them 6 and a half blocks.

In his elevator, a few minutes later, David had his hand around her back, trying to keep her upright. He wasn't doing much better himself, but at least he could try. At least, he was trying until his hand started drifting lower and lower until it was sitting right at the curve of her ass. He was a little surprised she let him keep it there and couldn't help himself, letting his hand explore. She turned towards him with a look of lust in her eye. "Impatient, aren't we?" He chuckled and pulled her to him. With her heels she was still a few inches shorter than him. He grabbed both of her ass cheeks and pulled her towards him. She responded by tilting her pelvis against him and he groaned softly. Suddenly the elevator beeped at his

floor, jarring them back to reality.

"Please tell me your building doesn't have security cameras," she said, trying to be serious, but failing miserably.

"Mmm, don't worry about it. It wasn't that good of a show; this is New York, I'm sure they've seen worse," he replied, pulling her quickly towards his apartment.

"Great, my moral standard has become 'not as bad as the rest of New York,'" she slurred at him.

"Olivia, right now I could care less about your moral standard," he said as he pulled her inside her apartment and immediately kissed her, hands roaming where ever they could reach. Her hands were as busy as his. They made their way towards the bedroom, shedding clothing as they went. Her heels went first, then his shirt, then his pants. He sat on the edge of the bed, with her standing between his legs. She crossed her arms in front of her and pulled her shirt over her head as his tongue was exploring her stomach. She almost lost her balance as she felt him tongue her hip bone, sucking at the skin there as he unbuttoned her jeans for better access. He stopped suddenly and she opened her eyes, looked down on him. He was staring up at the ridiculous excuse for a bra she had on. He grinned and turned his attention back towards her navel, working her jeans down. She helped, pulling one foot out and then the other, dragging the jeans down by stepping on one pants leg. Finally getting her free of clothing, David pulled her closer, practically onto his lap. He grabbed one leg and pulled it around him, essentially forcing him to sit on him. She pulled her other leg around him and curled her head into the crook of his neck, sucking at the pulsing skin right above the collarbone. He groaned and pulled them both back onto the bed.

Awaking to the sun shining on her face, Olivia groaned and turned back into the pillow. She turned her face slowly the other way and saw a sprawled out David Haden next to her. He must have sensed she was awake because he turned slightly and threw his arm over her. She sighed and enjoyed the feeling of the warm weight on her back. She slowly drifted back to sleep with a smile on her face; she was enjoying her day off already. She awoke an hour later and noticed the bed was empty. Realizing she was still naked, she pulled the sheet over her a little higher and inspected her surroundings. Seeing her purse in the corner, she grabbed her clothes and a clean pair of underwear that she had stashed in her bag. Looking for something else to put on, she grabbed the first thing she saw, which happened to be the cotton button-down David had been wearing the night before. Running a hand through her hair, she padded out into the other room. She saw David fumbling in the kitchen trying to make coffee.

"Having trouble?" she asked, surprising him.

"I think this fancy-ass coffee maker is smarter than I am." He threw down the parts into the sink.

Olivia eyed the state of the art espresso maker suspiciously. "You don't have a plain old coffee maker?"

"Yeah, I do, somewhere. Let's just go out and grab some coffee and breakfast instead."

"Doesn't that interrupt your plan of a full day in bed together?" she teased.

"Yes, it does, but I'm willing to compromise for some eggs and a cappuccino."

It was grey and drizzly outside, the perfect day for hiding out inside. They napped and made love and watched bad black and white movies on tv. They ordered burgers and french fries delivered for dinner and ate them sitting on the bed in front of the television. Olivia didn't have to be at work until 11am, but as the night grew late, something was weighing on her mind. She tried to not let it distract her but thought perhaps she wasn't doing that good of a job. As they turned to go to sleep that night, David asked her what was bugging her. She'd played it off that she'd been obsessing over something from work, something she couldn't let go of, the pieces didn't fit. It was a true in a way, but she wasn't truly bothered by work that night.

She was bothered by the fact that she knew Elliot would be sitting in that diner the next morning. She remembered Nick telling her he kept his promises. Olivia knew she had to go see him. She'd promised. She'd promised Elliot she'd have his back, she'd promised his family she'd always be there. She no longer was convinced she needed to see him for herself. The thing that bothered her most was when she thought of his kids and then saw the shell of a man she'd seen the week before. She knew she had to at least try.

She'd always been fiercely protective of his family. Trying to get him home at a reasonable hour, not letting him get distracted by work and forget important dates. Her own lack of family made her desperate to have his survive. If she couldn't have her own family, at least she could protect his. It wasn't any different, in her mind, than making sure he didn't get shot. She needed to send him home whole, in one piece, both physically and emotionally. He was definitely in pieces now, and despite her anger, she had made a promise and now she had to keep it. She set her alarm for early the next morning and turned back towards David, who was more than willing to help distract her.

She was awoken the next morning by a shrill message beeping on her phone. It was the emergency message tone from Cragen. She groaned as she reached over David to get it. He put his hand on her head, "Your Captain?" he asked groggily.

"My Captain," she replied, checking the message. There was a new case called in two hours ago, she had to meet Amaro at the scene. She glanced at the clock. Her alarm was about to go off in 5 minutes anyway. She threw back a text and cc'd Nick that she'd meet him there ASAP then sent a second one to Nick saying she had to take care of something and would meet him at the scene as soon as she could. She'd planned on getting home and showering after breakfast but before work, but, she thought foolishly, she should have known that wasn't going to happen.

She got to the diner a little before 7 and realized she had beaten Elliot there. Slightly concerned that he wasn't going to show, she settled herself into the table where she'd found him last week and ordered coffee and eggs. At 7:08 she saw the door open and saw his shadow block out the light for a brief minute. It was his silhouette yet she knew it was him. He walked over towards her and sat down next to her.

"What are you doing here, Olivia?" he asked, almost coldly.

"Eating eggs," she replied.

"That's not what I meant," he said.

"What did you mean?" she replied, she was going to make him work for this.

"Why did you come here? And I know it wasn't for fried eggs and toast and mediocre coffee."

She thought for a minute. Did he mean what did she want to get out of this meeting or why she was there in the first place? She went with the latter. It was simpler.

"Some people reminded me that I made a promise." He didn't say anything in response.

"I thought you never wanted to see me again," he said. She couldn't read his tone. It was flat. She tried to detect anger or hurt, but couldn't.

"Technically, what I said was 'don't contact me again.' It was too hard just having you show up, Elliot. I have a hard enough time getting through the day without worrying that you're going to show up unannounced."

"You have a hard time..." he repeated in the same bland voice. The waitress stepped over and brought him coffee, asking if he wanted the usual and he affirmed it.

"So what did you want to say?" he asked her.

She looked up from her eggs, slightly surprised. She hadn't thought about that. She'd thought about how angry she was and what she wanted him to say, but after her first few fits of anger, she really didn't know what else she wanted to say. She shrugged. "I dunno...I guess...I guess I just wanted an explanation."

She said it flatly, belying how close they were to a dangerous precipice for her. She didn't have any faith in her own ability to have a sustainable relationship. Even whatever she had with David Haden, to her, felt as if it was temporary, as if they, or at least she, was waiting for the shoe to drop. It always had. There was nothing in her life to suggest that things were about to change now.

"Liv, you have to know I didn't intend to hurt you. I was just such a mess, I couldn't...I couldn't..." He paused, he wasn't quite sure how to phrase this. Either way chances were she would explode in anger at it. "I was at the bottom of this pit, you know, a deep, dark, cold and slimy pit, with tall slick walls and no way out. And I couldn't let you try and help me out, because if you saw me down there, if you knew I was there, you would try to pull me out and instead...instead I would pull you right down with me. I couldn't do that to you, Liv. You didn't deserve to have to do that, to try and fix me. And you would have. You would have tried and tried and it would have killed you, because no one could have gotten me out, not even you."

She had set her fork down and was staring at him. "So rather than let me help you, you ignored me because it was FOR MY OWN GOOD? You paternalistic son of a bitch, don't you think that was my decision to make?"

"Maybe, but after 13 years Olivia. 13 years! I couldn't do that to you, I just couldn't." He was ignoring the eggs the waitress had place in front of him. Olivia was close to finishing hers. She'd picked up the fork again after listening to him plead that he was just trying to protect her. She finished off as much of the plate as she could quickly. She needed to meet Amaro 5 minutes ago.

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. In all the years we were together Elliot, you NEVER, EVER needed to protect me from yourself. You I could handle." She thought for a minute. "It's a start though. It might be a stupid reason, but at least it's a reason, not just 'I couldn't' or 'I didn't know how.'" She thought another minute while Elliot stared at his eggs. The thing is, Elliot, is that the cold, dark pit that you were stuck in? That horrible place that you couldn't escape? You couldn't have pulled me down in there with you. I was already there." She glanced at her watch. "I have to go, I'm late already. See you next week." She threw some cash down on the table and grabbed her bag and ran out.

Elliot was still sitting stunned. If it weren't for the empty plate sitting next to him and her coffee cup with the lipgloss stain on it, he would have thought he had just imagined the whole thing. It was slowly starting to dawn on him why Olivia was so angry with him. She hadn't shoved him out of her apartment, slapped him, coldly ignored his advances because he was angry because he left. She was angry because he had left her in a lurch. She'd been hurting too and he'd had his head so far up his ass he couldn't see that anyone else was hurting. He finally saw what she saw: that they could have helped each other. They could have suffered together. Neither of them could have fixed anything; it was beyond fixing. They could have walked next to each other though. He wondered briefly why she was even bothering. It's been almost a year and she'd obviously been coping, moved on, had a new partner, a new guy to date. So why was she bothering with him still. She said she had made a promise. He wondered to whom. Finally, he remembered what she had said. "Next week." 'See you next week.' She was coming back. She wasn't running. For the first time in a year, he almost felt hopeful, he almost felt that he was worth something.

Olivia shifted uncomfortably in the back seat of the cab heading back downtown. Nick was going to kill her. She was swearing at the uncomfortable bra she was wearing. This this was ridiculous. Lace and what not in all the wrong places. She remembered the day she'd just spent with David though and figured she could suffer for a few more hours. It'd been worth it. She climbed out of the cab into the sunshine that was starting to break through the clouds, apologies falling from her lips. Nick looked at her and took in her slightly rumpled clothes, and her relaxed smile and said "Don't worry about it. You look...relaxed. Good day off?"

"Uh, yeah, good. What do we have?" she asked, as he led her towards the crime scene in the back of the building.

"Yeah?" He didn't want to talk about the crime scene yet. He wanted to talk about how why his partner, a woman who he'd never seen anything but tightly wound, driven and dedicated, could show up 20 minutes late, in rumpled clothes and a smile after her day off. He'd seen her show up at 3am and look perfectly immaculate. "What'd you do? Or maybe who'd you do?" She shot Nick a glare, one that a couple of weeks ago might have had some bite to it, but today didn't scare him. "We are not talking about this," she growled. "Tell me what you have."

They turned to head back to the precinct uptown, Olivia tried to demand the keys to the sedan from Nick, who adamantly refused. "No way. You show up late, expect a ride back, I'm driving. Last time you almost got me killed."

"I did not, Nick. You need to grow a thicker skin." Seeing an opportunity however, she changed her tactic and said "Okay, fine, you can drive, but drop me at my place on the way up, I need to change."

He raised his eyebrows at her "You need to CHANGE?" he asked, devilish smile on his face. This was too good.

"Oh, shove it Amaro, it's not like that," she defended herself. He was giving her a 'yeah right' look. "Not really, anyway. I had somewhere to go this morning and was planning on stopping home before work. The case got in the way."

Nick was still looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "And not a word of this to anyone," she said.

"Fine, but I get to drive at least half the time," he countered.

"Deal."

He pulled up a few minutes later. "Want me to wait?" he asked. "It'll look fishy if we show up separately."

"Uh, yeah, that's be great. Give me 8 minutes, tops." She jumped out and slammed the car door.

Ten minutes later she was climbing back into the sedan. Nick looked at her, slightly impressed by her timing. "Well done, Detective. At that speed we can be back at the house before anyone even misses us.

"Ha. Yeah, we can just tell them you were driving and that's why it took us so long," she joked with him. He smirked at her and slowed down another 5 miles per hour just to irk her.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

To Olivia's surprise, the next several weeks went by without much fanfare. Work remained unchanged. They had their standard cases and their more pressing cases, but nothing that shook her world. She continued to meet Elliot for breakfast at the diner. After the meeting where she had shown up early and he opened up to her, she asked that they avoid the topic for a while and see if they could just be civil, be friends for a while. Neither of them had intentionally brought up the shooting or the intervening 11 months since then, although they did tend to tiptoe around the issue. Every now and then it would come up, rearing it's ugly head like an unwelcome spray of water in the face, but they smoothed it over. They both knew that the issue was far from resolved, but they both subconsciously realized that they needed to have some sort of relationship before they hashed that out, otherwise they would self-combust. Again.

Olivia had refrained from mentioning these meetings to David. It wasn't that they were a secret as much as she didn't want to have to explain why she was meeting him and what she got out of it. She was nervous enough about how he would react to her meeting an old friend, a man who had clearly meant so much to her. She also didn't quite trust herself not to taint her relationship with David with the baggage of Stabler and Benson.

They actually laughed now and then at breakfast, usually recounted a joke or a prank or a memory from their time together. Olivia went home and more nights than not spent the night with David. They tried to split the time between their two apartments and so far it was working. The Conviction Integrity Committee that David had been leading had turned out to be much less of an issue than they had feared. Most of their cases that had been reviewed had been cleared immediately. A couple had been flagged for review based on new evidence or new technology, but nothing that could have been completely prevented or worse, nothing that had been perverted by the detectives working the cases, at least not at the 1-6. Olivia still worried now and then that the Harris case would come up, but over the intervening weeks when it hadn't, it slowly slipped from the forefront of her mind.

She should have known that the peace she felt was too good to be true. She and David had spent a wonderful Sunday together. She'd gone in to work in the morning but had cleared out by noon, in time for a late brunch. They'd stayed at her place that night and David had been up early to hit the gym and then court at 8am. Olivia had slipped out right before 7 to meet Elliot for breakfast. She wondered if he had told his family he had been meeting her. She made a mental note to ask him. She didn't want to be a secret. The irony that she hadn't told David about their meetings was lost on her. Elliot had never made another move since the first time in the diner when he had kissed her. Niether of them had brought it up and though Olivia thought she could still feel her lips burning, she thought it had probably been a lapse brought on by the confusion of the time. She'd just been sliding into the booth, having beaten Elliot there again when her phone rang. It was David and she answered right away. He jumped right in without preamble.

"Hey, I left a notebook on the counter. Can you read me a phone number from it?" he asked.

"Uh, Um," she stuttered. "I'm not home, D, I can't."

"Ack, dammit. Okay. Where are you?" he asked innocently.

"Breakfast, meeting someone," she hastily covered. It sounded false and she knew it.

"Okayyyy," he didn't push, but also let her know he knew she wasn't being completely honest.

She saw Elliot approaching the table and said "Hey, D, I gotta go." She hung up quickly before he could reply.

"Hey," he greeted her as he slid into the booth.

"Do you want pancakes?" she asked without preamble.

"No," he replied. "I never want pancakes. YOU always want me to order pancakes so you can eat half of them and still get your eggs."

"Sometimes you want pancakes," she countered.

"Order your own pancakes, Benson," he demanded, calling the waitress over to order, though she didn't know why he bothered; they always ordered exactly the same thing.

They talked briefly about the Committee Haden was heading and how it was a headache for them, but not as bad as they had thought. She considered telling him that David had read the Gitano file and then decided against it, not wanting to destroy the new balance they had forged. Elliot immediately shot that to shreds when he asked "Have you thought about what if he get the H-" He stopped himself before he finished the sentence but the damage was done. She knew what he had been asking. He regretted his choice immediately, especially when he saw her freeze and pull back into the booth, stiff as a board, every muscle clenched.

"Yeah..No..." she replied. She couldn't decide what to answer. Yes she had thought about it. No she didn't know what she was going to do.

Elliot looked at her and suddenly saw not his partner, but a vulnerable woman. He hadn't seen this side of her in years. "You haven't told him." It was a statement, said quietly, not intended to hurt her or get a response from her. She shook her head slowly, not meeting him in the eye. He tried to change the subject, to turn the tone of the conversation lighter, but the damage had been done. She quickly finished her food and left quickly, reminicent of their earlier meetings.

She spent the rest of the day distracted, on edge, snapping at people like she hadn't in months. No one knew what was bothering her and no one was willing to call her on it until she crossed the line, yelling at Rollins over her request to go over a witness list for a cold case for what seemed like the 50th time.

"You need to stop wasting all our time with that list, Rollins! We've been over it a hundred times. Get over it and go do something productive for once," she spat. Rollins didn't back down, defending her actions and saying there was still an unsolved assault and waiting until something better came along to help us solve it wasn't going to work. The two were going to toe-to-toe in the middle of the squadroom until Fin grabbed Olivia's arm and pulled her aside.

"What the hell crawled up your ass today, Benson? Go take 5 minutes upstairs. Now." He said it with the authority of someone who had seen and done it a hundred times, with the air of boredom.

Rollins stood flushed, almost panting on the floor of the squadroom. Munch watched slightly amused from his desk. Nick was standing shocked, at his desk. He'd gotten to his feet but hadn't been able to move. He and Rollins shared a look of astonishment with each other.

Fin cracked his knuckles and stretched, heading back to his desk, ignoring the two rookies staring at him. "Haven't done that in a while. Thought I had forgotten how for a minute. Always thought it'd be you she'd snap at Amaro, not Rollins. Goes to show..." he gave a shrug and sat back down.

"What the hell was that?" Rollins asked. "That came out of nowhere."

Fin shrugged. "Meh, she and Stabler used to do that once a month or so, when things got tense or they were pissed off about something. I was starting to think Stabler always incited it since Benson's been on good behavior for so long, but turns out I was right all along. She starts her own shit when she's pissed. She'll come back down in 5 minutes and apologize, don't worry."

"I'm not worried. Shit, I didn't do anything wrong, but now I think I understand what they were talking about..." she mumbled.

"What do you mean 'what they were talking about?'" Fin asked, his eyes squinting.

"Ah, you know how cops talk, everyone's got a rep. Word was that Benson's a great cop, gifted even, but she has a temper that you don't want to be on the wrong side of, likely to get your ears burned off," Rollins replied. "Can't say I disagree, though she managed to keep that underwraps for a while."

Fin was glaring at her. Benson might be a bit of a loose cannon now and then, much more likely to stray from the straight and narrow than either of her partners had been, barring Stabler's tendency to hit things, but she was HIS loose cannon. It was like talking smack about your grandma's cooking. You could do it, but heaven help the other person if they did so.

Just as predicted, Olivia came back downstairs 10 minutes later, calm as a cucumber, apologized to Rollins and offered to help sort through the witness list and went on as if nothing had happened. Internally though, she was exhausted. The memory of Harris had resurfaced and was playing havok with her soul. She wasn't having panic attacks anymore, but that day she found herself drifting off into her memories. The bite had gone out of her anger after Fin had snatched her out of it. His arm on her shoulder reminded her.

She stiffened her shoulders and got through the rest of the afternoon. She stuck around until late and Fin approached her as she was leaving. She had that sad look in her eye that he recognized. "Hey, Benson," he came up behind her, already in his coat and hat. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, Fin. Thanks for earlier. I needed to snap out of it." She barely glanced up from the report she was reading.

"Anytime. Hey, Benson?" He waited for her to look up at him. "You know you can talk to me if you need anything, huh?"

"Yeah, thanks, Fin." She gave him a small smile and turned back to the report. She trusted him, trusted him with her deepest secrets and biggest shame, but that didn't mean she wanted to rehash it with him all the time. She still had to look the man in the eye every day at work.

"You okay here?" he asked.

"Yeah, leaving in a few anyway," she said. "Go on." She waved him off. He went, knowing she was covering something up and also knowing she wasn't about to share with him. He hoped that Haden was treating her right or so help him, God, he'd have a few words with the man.

She kept her word and fifteen minutes later she was strolling into the elevator and heading home through the brightly lit streets of Manhattan. She found David waiting on her stoop for her. It brought back memories of another man who used to do that, even though he had a key and it made her smile.

"What're you doing out here?" she asked him as he greeted her with a kiss.

"Just thinking about you," he responded. She was instantly on full alert. Thinking was never good. Thinking meant questions. And quest for understanding and emotional and mental intimacy, all of which she was terrified her.

He hadn't said another word about it and they'd had a relaxed evening of a low-key dinner and a glass of wine. As they were settled on the couch with the remains of the bottle of wine, David asked "Who did you meet for breakfast today?"

"What?" she asked dumbly, stalling for time.

"Your friend," he asked. "Who did you meet?"

"Oh, uhh, an old friend," she hedged. God, she was a horrible liar. And didn't David Haden know it.

"Really? Just an old friend, one with no name?" he pushed. She was avoiding his eyes; hers were darting back and forth.

Seeing her reaction he put two and two together. "It was Elliot, wasn't it? You've been meeting him for weeks, all those early Monday meetings." He said it as a statement, a little shocked that he had thought of it and immediately knew it was true.

"Uh, yeah... Elliot," she said stupidly; she couldn't think of what else to say.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed loudly. "You've been sneaking around with him for months now. Were you ever going to tell me? Hey David, remember that guy that broke my heart? I see him all the time now. What else are you hiding?"

"What else am I hiding? What are you accusing me of? Why exactly do you think I'm meeting him?" she threw back at him.

"I dunno, you tell me!" he spat back at her, voice raised.

She was livid. After the crummy way breakfast had ended and her complete inability to deal with it at work, now she had to deal with these accusations at home.

"Oh my god!" she realized. "You think I'm cheating on you. With Elliot? Oh my god! You think I'm having an affair? Because I meet him for breakfast and eat crummy eggs and bad coffee him once a week."

"No! Of course not. I'm not accusing you of doing anything except not telling me. You've been purposefully avoiding telling me that you're meeting this guy and I want to know why," he demanded.

"Because...because..." she fumbled for an answer, for him as well as herself.

"You better come up with a good answer here, Benson," he warned.

"I think... I didn't tell you because I don't trust him yet. I don't trust him anymore, not yet. And I spent 13 years of my life trusting him absolutely and completely and I still can't face the fact that I might not be able defend him as vigorously as I want to. And until I knew I could do that, I didn't want you to know because...because I didn't know if you would understand how important he was to me."

It was as raw and as honest as she could get, and he could tell how it almost broke her to tell him this, to open up to him. He stood across from her and didn't move. She started to panic. Her explanation wasn't good enough. He didn't believe her. "David, you have to believe me. There is nothing going on there. I swear-"

He cut her off. "Stop Olivia, I don't think you're sleeping with him. Relax." He stepped forward and took her in his arms. "I told you before I'm not jealous of the guy. I have to admit my feelings are hurt that you didn't think you could trust me with this. And I'm a little irritated because I don't think this guy deserves your time of day.."

Now it was her turn to interrupt. "That's what I mean! You don't think I should bother, but I have to TRY. I made a promise! I can't just leave him to his demons. That's why I met him at first, and then I realized I wanted my friend back too. At some point in the past year I forgave him for hurting me."

He contemplated this for a minute. "Okay, well, if you can forgive the jackass, then so can I." He sat back down on the couch and sipped at his wine. She stood there confused.

"What, what are you doing?" she cried. She was expecting a drawn out fight. That's how fights worked. She yelled, the other person yelled until neither of them gave up and someone ended up storming off. David was just sitting there calmly. "So that's it?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah, why? You upset about something?" he asked, slightly amused by her disconcertion.

"No...just...nevermind." She grabbed her wine and sat down next to him. He draped his arm over her and let his fingertips tease her collarbone.

"So who did you promise?" he asked.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"You said you made a promise, to who?" he asked again, gently.

"To a lot of people. I promised Elliot I would always have his back, and in our job that's not just looking out for the person physically, there's a lot of emotional baggage that comes with it and sometimes you need someone to watch your...your..." She didn't know, your heart? Your soul?. "Your insides," she finished off. "And I promised his family, the first time I met his wife...she didn't trust me, I could tell, first of all I was a woman, second of all I was a woman who spent more time with her husband that she did. She threw that in my face a little, that he would always be coming home to her and her kids and that I needed to make sure he came home whole. And I did, I promised her that with every fiber of my being...I think that's what made me do it. He was just this broken person and I couldn't let that be the person who went home to his kids. If I did, I had failed."

He didn't say anything at her heartfelt statements and she glanced up at him to see what his reaction was. "I think you hold yourself responsible for things you have no control over."

She shrugged in his arms. "Maybe, but someone has to try or it all goes down the drain."

He hugged her tighter. That was why he loved this woman. She was willing to throw herself to the wolves to save another person and it made him want to love her and shake her at the same time.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The next week at breakfast, Olivia told Elliot about the argument she and David had had, or not had, about their breakfast meetings. He seemed kind of amused by the idea. She hadn't told him the part about why she had kept it a secret. She was mostly using him as a sounding board for how the argument had ended. "Elliot, we were screaming at each other and all of a sudden he just turned it off, like he was over it. He sat down and acted as if it had never happened. El, I think I won," she said surprised.

He was chuckling at her. "I don't think either of us every truly WON an argument with each other, we'd just fight until one of us got tired," he said.

"Yeah, and we danced around the issue and made everyone miserable, including ourselves," she agreed. "We were so good and so bad all at the same time." She thought for a moment. They had to talk about it sooner or later. "Elliot, that kiss..."

He interupted her before she could finish her thought. "Liv, I'm so sorry about that. I don't know what I was thinking. I was so surprised to see you and things just piled up and..."

She interupted him right back. "It's okay, El. I think I understand. You can't deny it, neither can I. We're just lucky nothing ever happened..." She tapered off. Were they lucky?

Elliot let out a large sigh, 13 years worth of a sigh. "Were we?" he asked. Her head sprung up in surprise. She hadn't spoken that out loud, had she?

"I think we were El. If..If you had tried that when Kathy left the first time...It would have been bad," she said.

"What do you mean 'bad'?" he asked.

"Bad. Just...bad. If it was before Gitano..Shit, if it had been AFTER Gitano. I...I would have kissed you back, Elliot. And meant it. It would have been a disaster. You know that, right?" She looked at his sharply.

"Would it really have been that bad, Liv? Maybe it would have changed everything." He was thinking back about Gitano, before Gitano, when he'd been alone and Olivia, his best friend. He'd thought about kissing her, often, back then. He'd never made a move because he'd been convinced that she would slap him, or worse, and that he would ruin everything he had left. To find out now that he'd been wrong was shocking. It made him wonder how well he knew his partner after all.

"It would have destroyed our partnership, completely destroyed it, and it would never have worked. Us as a couple? Come on, we would have murdered each other and each been completely justified. We would both have been left with no partner, had to leave the job, and then lost each other too. We might have lost each other eventually anyway, but we got a few bonus years, huh?"

"Did we lose each other eventually after all, Liv?" he asked her.

She looked at him, face open and replied honestly "I don't know yet, El. I don't know." She might sit and eat breakfast with him, and it was helping, but she was still on the fence about whether or not she was going to let him back him. He'd hurt her, and she'd forgiven him, but it didn't mean she was going to give him a chance to do it again.

She swung in to work that morning carrying coffees for the group. If they wondered about her mood, they did it silently. That all hit the fan when a string of assaults were reported.

Three women had reported being assaulted. The guy restrained them, rubbed up against them, forced oral copulation and then ran. The women fit no pattern. They were all different ages, different ethnicities, different income brackets, different job types. The only thing they had in common was the area in which they'd been attacked. The unit went into overdrive.

Three days later, Olivia hadn't been home in 36 hours. She'd been forced to take a couple hours in the cribs, but wasn't able to sleep. There had been two more attacks since they'd put together the pattern of the first three. In the last one the women had eventually been raped. Listening to the statements of the victims had Olivia on edge. She was used to hearing horrific things from the mouths of victims: anger, violence, rape, assault. It was hearing the stories of the first women, the women who were distraught over the assaults that was getting to her. They sat without a mark on their bodies, but with emotional scars that they would carry the rest of their lives. She knew too well the pain they were going through. Hearing their statements was like reliving it all over again. By the third one she was shaking, sweating, and had to excuse herself from the interview room.

She stood in front of the water cooler, slowly sipping a cup of cold water. She held a second, ostensibly for the victim. Fin walked over to her and said "Hey."

"Hey," she replied. "We get anything new while I was in there?"

He shook his head and squinted his eyes at her. "You okay?'

"Yeah, just giving her a minute," she lied.

Fin glanced side to side, making sure no one else was within earshot or even paying attention to them. "This hitting too close to home?"

She stiffened and clenched her jaw. Fin wasn't oblivious to this but he pretended.

"Don't pretend, Olivia, it only makes it worse."

"I can do this, Fin."

"I know you can. Just remember you're human. When you try and suppress that, that is when things get bad, huh? When you need a minute, take a minute, just like you are doing," he said. "You can do this."

She nodded softly, finished her water and dumped the cup in the trash can. "Thank, Fin," she murmured as she reentered the interview room.

"We'll get this guy, Liv," he replied.

Twenty-four hours later, she'd been home to shower and change, but not to sleep. She'd taken a few hours in the crib and this time had gotten a few hours, her body taking over after the past few days of abuse.

There was a break in the case the next day. They'd gotten the DNA back from one of the victims. It didn't make anyone in the system, but it did match a hair taken at one of the other crime scenes. They had evidence linking the crimes. Then another break came when their canvassing turned up someone who thought they knew the person the sketch artist had compiled with the help of the victims, none of whom had gotten a great look at the guy. "His hair's not brown though," the witness had said, referring to the note next to the artist's sketch. "His hair's red." The hair found at the scene had been bright red. Their witness was able to give them a first name and a location where he was likely to be.

Three hours later they had their guy in custody. He had refused their request for a DNA sample, but as Olivia and Fin were questioning him, he'd lost it and spit at them. It hit Fin right in the neck. "Why, turns out you wanted to give us a DNA sample after all, moron. Thanks!" Fin turned to the door to take care of the "sample," leaving Olivia alone with their suspect. So far he hadn't given him anything to allow them to keep him over 24 hours. Until they got their DNA sample back, they needed something else to confirm their suspicions, heck, what they knew, that this was their guy.

Olivia observed the guy figdet in the uncomfortable chair; she could tell he was angry at himself for slipping up and giving them what they wanted. She could use that, he felt angry at himself, angry he slipped up. He demanded perfection from himself.

"Interesting M.O. you have going on here. Finding a woman, attacking her from behind, using her to arouse yourself, then forcing oral on her. Like maybe you couldn't get it up on your own? Is that what it is?"

He spun around. "NO! Of course not. I don't have that problem!"

"Sure you don't, big virile guy like you doesn't need to force himself on women to get hard, doesn't need to force himself on women. You'd never have to stuff it in a woman's mouth to get hard enough to rape them, right?"

"No! I mean, Yes, RIght! Just shut up would you! Stupid bitch!" he yelled.

"Ah, come on, you know we've got you for this, got your DNA, witnesses putting you in the area. Just admit that you used their mouth to get it up, only way the rape was going to work, just took you a few tries. You must be having a harder time than we originally thought."

"No way, bitch. Never had a problem, women were always intimidated by my size. You wanna give it a go, detective?" He practically slithered the words and leered at her. "Not afraid of a little oral, are you?"

Outside the window, Cragen and Fin, newly returned from evidence collection, were watching her work. Not likely the direction this interogation was taking, Fin said "Cap, I think maybe you should pull her."

"Hold on, Tutuola, I think she's getting somewhere," the Captain replied, not taking his eyes off the interaction in front of him.

Fin turned his eyes back to the one way mirror in front of him and heard their suspect say "As long as you don't bite, Detective."

Fin saw Olivia flinch, but she held her ground. Inside the interogration room, Olivia was fighting for control. She pushed back the unwelcome images from her mind.

Fin spoke again, more urgently this time "Captain!" Cragen held up his hand to silence him.

"Almost, give her a minute," Cragen said.

"No, Cap, you don't understand..." he protested.

By then Olivia had gotten her bearings. "I dunno, I'm pretty unpredictable. You sure you want to take that risk?" she slithered back at him, looking him straight in the eye. Her brashness unnerved him, he'd preyed on women he thought he could control, one's that appeared hesitant, not so boldly confident as this broad, no matter how stinking hot she was.

He shrugged his shoulders and fidgeted again. "They all listened to me. Not a one bit me. They knew what was good for them."

Olivia took a step backwards, professional demeanor back in a millisecond. "Why Mister Markham, I do believe that might count as a confession." She heard a knock on the window and stepped out of the room.

Joining her colleagues in the hallway, she felt a burst of cool air that was a welcome change from the stuffy interogation room. The stark contrast in temperature gave her goosebumps and made sweat break out on her brow. She heard Cragen telling her it was good work, and heard Fin repeat it. She felt as if she was in a fog, in a dream, or watching the scene from outside. She heard Casey Novak say "We can hold him with that until we get the DNA." Olivia let out the breath that she hadn't known she was holding.

Now it felt like she couldn't catch her breath. She could feel the cold sweat on her brow. She forced herself to focus again, looking back at the suspect as an excuse to grab the wall. Fin was watching her closely. She was pale and a little sweaty. He knew how hot it got in those rooms, especially when you were working to break a suspect, but he thought this was something else, especially considered what he had heard. "You okay?" he asked her.

She swallowed and looked at him, "Yeah, Fin, I'm fine now. We got him."

She turned to go back to the squadroom. Cragen was giving her a funny look, but only said again "Good work, Detective." She turned in the squardroom into bathroom where she immediately locked herself in the stall. She took a few deep breaths and tried to still her shaking hands. She'd done it. She'd gotten through it without a single flashback. She stepped to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face as Rollins entered.

"Hey, heard you got him! Good work," the blond said.

"Thanks," Olivia replied, pressing a towel to her face. She stretched her arms and then rubbed her neck. Suddenly she was exhausted. With the adrenaline gone, she had nothing left.

Still out in the hallway, Cragen asked Fin "What was that about? Asking me to pull her? She was on a roll."

"Uh, I dunno, just got a feeling it was going south. Guess I was wrong," Fin replied, trying to shrug it off.

"Anything I should know about?" he asked his detective.

"Nah, nothing," Fin replied. He wasn't about to break his silence now.

"She okay, you think? She looked a little shaky there afterwards. Inside she was cool as a cucumber, but the minute she stepped out here..." the Captain wanted his Detective's honest opinion and thought that Fin would give it.

"Yeah, I think she is," he said honestly. If this had happened a year ago, 6 months ago even, he wasn't sure he would have been able to say it, but now, he thought she was.

"You know, if this had been before..." Cragen didn't have to specify 'before' what, they both knew he meant before the shooting, "before I would have sent Stabler after her, knowing he'd get through to her, but now...Now I'm not sure who can."

"Yeah..." Fin agreed. "Me too." The two men turned into the squadroom to see Benson and Rollins heading to the coffee together. They were both relieved to see she looked okay now.

Relieved that the worst was behind them, they contacted all the victums, arranged for lineups for witnesses and victims to ID their guy and finish the paperwork. By Sunday night at midnight they were all practically blearly eyed and delirious. Cragen finally put and end to the marathon session, telling everyone to go home and not be back until 11am the next morning. "Fin, Olivia, you two haven't been home since Friday. Take the day tomorrow, we'll call if we need you."

Not about to protest this time, the detectives quickly wrapped things up and headed home.

Olivia caught a cab back to her apartment, calling David on the way. He asked if he could come over and she relented. It'd be nice to not have to sit alone after a case like this one. Especially after this case. Even if she knew she was going to fall asleep immediately, his presence was going to be a comfort.

She'd hit the couch and had been asleep before he'd made it over. Waking her with his knock. She stumbled to the door and looked out the peephole. She swung the door open to let him inside. "I was just starting to worry, I've been knocking for almost 60 seconds straight."

"Sorry," she replied. "Fell asleep on the couch."

He smiled at her. "Hungry?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Just tired." She looked at what he was wearing. Just an old pair of jeans and a worn out wool sweater. "No suit?" she asked.

He shrugged, "Tomorrow's Veteran's Day, remember? Court's closed. I have to go in in the morning to wrap up some things for Tuesday, but I don't have to look presentable, or be in early." She grinned at him sleepily. He looked at her, makeup smudged, bags under her eyes, still in her work clothes. This case had hit her hard. He had talked to her only briefly in the past 5 days, having her hang up on him multiple times as things happened quickly. She had a look to her that told him it was something more than just fatigue.

"You look like you're not long for this world. Go shower and change before you fall asleep again," he said.

"Don't boss me," she replied jokingly, even as she turned towards the bathroom.

"Don't pull stupid shit like sleeping in your clothes and I won't have to," he rebutted just as quickly. Pulling her clothes off as she went, she threw her shirt at him.

No more than 20 minutes later, she was clean, showered and on the couch in an old pair of yoga pants and a tshirt, asleep with her head on David's shoulder.

He let her sleep for a while on the couch before waking her and forcing her into the bed. She slept restlessly beside him, despite her obvious fatigue. She finally settled into a deeper sleep and David allowed himself to relax. He awoke in the dead of night to Olivia thrashing and moaning next to him. Before he was fully awake and aware of what was happening, she let out a yell and shot upright in bed, panting. He sat up and put a hand on her shoulder but she shook him off and darted into the bathroom.

Behind the closed door, she leaned on the sink. The nightmare had been blissfully vague, full of the sound of clanging metal bars, dark and damp basements and the feeling of terror and complete helplessness. She threw some water on her face and slowed her breathing before crawling back into bed.

David turned towards her and held her close to him. She could feel the warm skin of his chest on her back through the fabric of the thin tshirt she wore. "You okay?" he murmured.

"Yeah, just a nightmare," she replied.

"That happen often?" he asked.

"No," she answered honestly, "not anymore."

"You wanna tell me what it was about?"

"No, D, not now, I just want to sleep."

"Okay," he replied, gently brushing the hair off her forehead. In his warm arms, she fell back to sleep almost immediately.

She stirred in the bed, hearing noises but not being able to place them. She was still so tired, her body felt like it was made of lead. It was almost more than she could handle to open her eyes and lift her head. She saw sun filtering in through her windows and then saw David coming out of the bathroom. Sitting on the bed next to her, he brushed the hair off her face, saying "Hey there, didn't mean to wake you. I'm going in to the office for a few hours. I'll be back around noon. Get some more sleep, huh?" She groaned and turned her face towards the pillow, waving him off with one hand. He took the hint and left her alone to sleep.

She woke several hours later, feeling stiff and a little like she was hungover. She figured it was more likely dehydration, trying to remember when she last had anything to drink that wasn't coffee. She padded into the kitchen and found some cereal and a carton of milk that wasn't past it's prime, for once. Looking at the clock she saw it was already almost 11 o'clock. A little shocked she had slept that late, she shrugged and poured herself a second helping of cereal. Streching her stiff muscles, she left the dirty bowl in the sink and headed back towards the bedroom. Turning on the water as hot as she could stand, she stood in the shower letting the streaming water relax her. Now that her mind was starting to relax a little she was having trouble keeping the memories of her attack, the victims statements, the leering gaze of their redheaded perp out of her head. Climbing out of the shower as she was starting to lose the hot water, she pulled on an old favorite pair of jeans, a soft wool sweater and a pair of ballet flats. She made a pot of coffee, more out of habit than because she needed the caffeine, and curled up on a bar stool to read a trashy gossip magazine. Cragen hadn't called yet, hopefully things would stay quiet and she'd get a well-earned reprieve. Even the trite content of the magazine wasn't enough to distract her mind this morning. She kept getting distracted by the case, by her memories. She felt out of sorts, slightly anxious and agitated, unable to get comfortable. She fidgeted on the barstool.

Around noon David came blustering in the front door, cheeks flushed from the brisk weather outside and hair and coat mussed from the wind. "Hey! You're awake! How'd you sleep? You have to go in today?" He fired the questions at her without waiting for answers. Her tired, out of sorts mind struggled to keep up. She mumbled something unintelligible to him as he blew through her apartment into the bedroom, dropping his briefcase in the front hallway. She stood to follow him, but didn't make it very far. He hollered from the bedroom, "Oh, hey Liv, there's a stack of files in my briefcase. I think the file you were asking about a while back is in there. Leonard Harris, Harris something. You said to let you know."

Olivia's stomach dropped two floors, her heart was pounding. 'Not now! Not now!' she pleaded to no one in particular. She couldn't do this now, she needed some notice, some time to prepare. She should have thought more about it, should have planned. She could feel her pulse in the soft spot above her sternum, could hear the pounding in her ears. Of all the days, it had to be this one. She felt blindsided, even as she knew there was no other way for this to happen. She frantically pulled the files from his briefcase, flipping through them until she saw it. "Harris, Lowell." She stared at it for a minute. She'd have to do this; there was no other way. She flipped open the file even as her brain was screaming at her not to. She saw his photo and immediately let the cover fall back over it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't do it. Not now. Not after yesterday, not after this week.

A few minutes later, David came back out of the bedroom, curious why the apartment was so quiet. He saw his briefcase with files in a haphazard pile on the ground. Olivia's coffee and magazine were still on the counter. "Olivia?" he called. Where was she? There was no answer. He stuck his head out into the hallway and saw nothing. 'She must be inside somewhere,' he thought. He looked around the apartment; it wasn't a big enough place to get lost. He looked for her handbag that had been sitting in the hallway; it was gone. So was her coat that had been hanging on the closet doorknob where she'd sloppily hung it the night before. 'What the hell?' he thought. Had she run out to the market for something and he just hadn't heard her? He dialed her cell phone, half expecting to hear it ring. He didn't hear anything and it rang four times unanswered before going to voicemail.

She was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

He waited another 15 minutes for her to come back before he dialed her phone again. This time it went immediately to voicemail. She was either somewhere in the subway system where there was no service or, more likely, she had turned her phone off. Now he was starting to worry. He hadn't paid enough attention when he'd gotten home. He remembered the odd look he'd seen on her face yesterday, behind the fatigue. It only upped the level of his anxiety.

The rational part of his brain was telling him that she was an adult, a very capable adult, who knew what she was doing. If she wanted to leave in the middle of the day, she could, it wasn't a crime, or indicative that something had gone wrong, but somehow he knew that something WAS wrong. Maybe she'd gotten called into work, he thought. He was trying to tell himself not to worry, but he was, in fact, very worried.

He pulled out his files to read, all but the Harris file. He knew Olivia wanted to talk to him before he looked at it, so he left it in his bag. The time passed excruciatingly slowly. He thought about whom he could call. He expected her to walk in the door any second, but as the hours passed, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

Over at the 1-6, Cragen stuck his head out of his office and yelled "Anyone heard from Benson?" He got a chorus of nos. He'd been calling since 4pm and now it was closer to 6 and he hadn't heard anything back. He was beyond irritated. He needed his detective to be here. He'd given her the morning but warned that he'd probably be calling her in later. He'd left multiple messages on her voicemail; the damn thing hadn't even rung. "Fin!" he hollered again. "You haven't heard from her?"

"Nah, Cap," he replied. "Haven't talked to her since last night."

"Amaro? Rollins? Munch?"

The other detectives shook their heads at him.

Around 7pm, David couldn't stand it any longer. He grabbed his coat, scrawled a message and left it for Olivia and headed out the door. He headed straight for the 1-6. He was surprised at the level of activity at the police station, considering only essential staff were there on the holiday. The floor with SVU was bustling. David felt a little relief. She had to be there, she'd gotten called in and he hadn't heard her tell him.

Seeing Haden strolling through the bullpen, Cragen yelled for him to come over. The other detectives were frantically working the phones; there'd been a kidnapping in the park, a bold and brazen one and the media had picked it up immediately, causing a shit storm of phone calls.

David hadn't seen Olivia in the squadroom, figuring she was in the back somewhere and answered Cragen's bark. The older man ushered him into his office. "Mr. Haden. Sorry about the lack of pleasantries, I'm sure you're here for a reason, but where the hell is Detective Benson?" he snarled.

"What do you mean 'where the hell is Dete- She's not here?" he asked, baffled. Now he was really concerned. He'd been banking on her being at work to calm his nerves.

"No, she's not here! I've got a holy shit storm of media tips and a missing kid and she's got her phone off. I've been calling her since 4!" he snapped.

"I haven't seen here since noon! I don't know where she went, I thought she was here..." He pulled out his phone and dialed again. He snapped it shut after 5 seconds. "Voicemail again. It rang once after she left and since then it's gone straight to voicemail everytime."

"Well where was she going last you know?" the bald Captain asked. He was still much more irritated than he was worried.

"Nowhere. She wasn't going anywhere. She was in her apartment, I went into the other room and when I came out she was gone. I haven't heard anything since. She took her coat and her purse, but..." Hearing this, Cragen frowned. He walked to the door and yelled for Fin and Amaro to get in his office. Rollins and Munch were out with one of the uniforms following up on what seemed like a genuine credible lead.

The two detectives joined the other men in the office. "You're sure neither of have heard from Benson? Cause she'd officially been MIA since noon. I'd hate to add a missing detective to the list."

His phone rang, adding to the cacophony in the room. David's head was starting to hurt. Cragen answered the phone with a growl and then something changed. Both Fin and Nick heard the change in tone and went to red alert. They were communicating in a way that Haden didn't get. He hung up the phone. "They got him. Rollins got the kid. He was drugged and sleeping in the back of a minivan. Seems okay." Fin immediately stepped out into the squadroom and made an announcement, the noise level immediately dropped to a low hum. Haden was flabbergasted at the speed at which these people worked, with the automatic efficiency of a well-tuned machine.

Haden felt the tension in the room melt away. He hadn't even noticed it when he walked in, but now that it was gone he felt a little like jelly. 'How the hell did these people work like this?' They were far stronger than he ever could. He had a newfound respect, again, for the officers he worked with.

Fin stepped back into the office. "What's going on, Haden? You lose your girlfriend or what?" Haden couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Luckily Cragen saved him from the awkward moment. "He hasn't seen her since noon, her phone's off, no one knows where she is. Ideas?" he asked the group.

"When'd you last see her?" Fin asked.

"Uh, around noon. I got to her place after spending a few hours at work, holiday right? And she was drinking a cup of coffee and reading a gossip magazine. I went into the bedroom and when I came back she was gone. Took her purse and coat though, and her phone. It rang the first time I called it, but then went straight to voicemail."

"She didn't say anything to you? Didn't mention where she was going? What about last nihht? Didn't say anything?" Nick pressed him.

"No, she passed out practically immediately last night, barely said two words to me. I left before she got up this morning."

"And nothing seemed different, off?" Fin asked, thinking about what had happened yesterday.

Haden wrinkled his brow. "She was a little upset about the case, I think, but it was hard to tell if she was just tired or something more. I couldn't tell. She...she had a nightmare last night though, played it off like no big deal." Fin was nodding at him. He remembered she'd done that in the cribs one time not long after Sealview. They'd both been trying to catch a few hours during a horrific case and she'd woken with scream, horribly embarrassed about it and neither of them had mentioned it since.

Cragen pick up on where Fin was going, remembering the look she had after getting the guy to admit what he'd done. "You think it's related to that case?" he asked Fin.

Fin shrugged, "Maybe," then "Yeah, probably." He had to be honest with him and with the others. It was related. She was still working through some issues. It was absolutely related to yesterday.

"So what happened today? You got home and she just disappeared? You didn't say anything to her?" Nick asked him.

David knew they were just doing what they did best, but he couldn't help but feel like he was under a microscope here. "No, I did. You know, basic greetings, stupid stuff, then I walked into the room and I was kind of hollering from the bedroom that I'd brought home some files from work, for the committee." He looked to Cragen, "We don't discuss the cases, ever, but she'd asked for a head's up if I came across a few particular files so I..."

"Which files?" Fin interrupted. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Um, Harris something, Lowell Harris?" Cragen was immediately seeing where this was going.

"And you told her you had the file?" Fin asked.

"Yeah, but I hadn't read it. She asked me not to until she could talk to me." He looked from Cragen to Fin and then to Nick, who looked a little confused himself.

"Shit." Fin said it with an air of finality.

"What?" David demanded. He felt this was spinning out of control. They knew something and he was still in the dark and he didn't like it.

"So I just want to clarify, Liv asked you if you came across the Harris file to talk to her before you read it, so today you came to her apartment and mentioned you had it and the next thing you know she's out the door?" Fin said it like it was a statement, or was it a question.

"Uh, yeah." David replied.

"Shit," Fin replied again.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"What the hell is going on?" David demanded. "You know something! What?"

"Hey, calm down man, I think she just needed some time, some time away. I'm sure she's fine. We just need to find out where she might have gone. Any ideas where she'd go if she needed some time to think?"

"Time to think? I dunno. I checked the coffee shops and bars by her apartment and briefly checked out the park where she likes to go, I don't have any other ideas. It's why I came here." David replied.

"Okay," Cragen took charge of the conversation again, "Haden, you should go back to her place, in case she shows up there. There is no reason at this point to tell us there is any sort of foul play. She left on her own and it's not like she's a vulnerable person, this is Benson we're talking about. You two," he pointed at Fin and Nick, "See if you can come up with a list of places to check out without totally screwing up this kidnapping case, and call Novak, see if she's heard anything." He turned back to David. "If you hear anything from her, or think of anything else, let us know." He nodded at them.

David had one last idea, he hated to bring it up, but he was a little bit desperate at this point. "Hey," he said to Fin as they all filed out of the office, "Do you think Stabler might have an idea where she'd go? Maybe worth giving him a call? I don't have the guy's number..."

That stopped Nick, and then Fin, in his tracks. "Stabler?" Fin asked, surprised. He wondered what Olivia had told David about Stabler. As far as he knew, the two had never met. "Why would Stabler know? He's gone man, she hasn't talked with him in over a year."

"What do you mean?" David asked. "She meets him for lunch like once a week, has been for months."

The other two detectives, and their Captain turned and stared at him, shocked. Nick remembered her tossing his note into the garbage. "Are you serious?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, as far as I can tell it's like a form of self-punishment or something, but she seems to think he's worth it," David said. "You think he might know something?"

Fin tilted his head. "Maybe, can't hurt to try. Don't even know if he'll answer his phone though." He pulled out his phone and dialed the number that was still stored in his address book even after a year.

In the new quiet of the squadroom, they could hear the ringing of the phone. Finally they heard "Hello? Fin?"

"Hey, Stabler. Sorry to bother you, man. Have you seen Benson today?" he asked.

The others listened closely to see if they could hear the answer. "No. Why?" they heard him ask.

"She went MIA this afternoon, I think she just needed some time, you know, but she's got her phone off," Fin said.

Elliot immediately got a little worried. "Needed a little time? For what? A case?"

"Yeah, sorta," Fin replied.

"What?" Elliot demanded, knowing there was more.

"Harris," Fin said.

"Ah...fuck," came the voice on the other line, loud and clear.

"Yeah, I know. She took her bag and coat and her phone, but no one's seen her since noon."

They heard him say something but couldn't discern what it was. "Yeah," Fin replied, looking at Haden with a look of surprise, "He's here." There was more murmuring on the other side of the phone. "Yeah, okay. You too, man." He hung up the phone with a snap.

"He hasn't heard anything, said he might know a couple places to check. He'll call if he finds anything." Fin looked at Haden, slightly amused. "Aren't you just full of interesting information," he said with a smirk. "Go home, see if she turns up."

"What's the deal with his Harris guy?" David asked, not moving yet. Nick didn't know, Cragen avoided his eye, but Fin met his eye firmly and said, "Benson will tell you. She's the only one who can." David nodded and headed out. There were a couple more places he was going to check on his way back.

Elliot moved quickly. He thought about checking out the park, but figured Olivia wouldn't be hanging around there after dark. He hit up a couple of cafes and restaurants he'd known her to go to and asked around. No one had seen her that day. He sat in his car in the dark. He was still really angry about the Sealview incident. He knew she'd had a horrible time getting through it, and he was angry with himself for not being a better friend to her at the time. He had known her for a very long time. Suddenly he had a revelation. He turned his car back uptown. He pulled over a block away from his destination, missing the police insignia that used to allow him the freedom to park anywhere in the congested city. He grabbed the photo of her that he'd been showing around and headed inside the Velvet Room. It was worth a shot, he didn't have any more ideas. His heart sank a little when he realized she wasn't in the dark bar. No one there remembered seeing her that day. She hadn't been there. The thing about Olivia was she was a person that people noticed and remembered.

Disappointed, he trudged back to his car and as he did so, he remembered coming to that block before. He turned across the street. It was a long shot, he knew. The night of her mother's funeral he'd driven her home and as they got close, she'd changed her mind and asked him to drop her off further uptown on the Upper West Side. She'd told him she'd had to meet some people, but wouldn't elaborate. She'd had him drop her off on the corner and he'd waited, watching her walk to midblock and enter a small bar. It wasn't as dive-like as the Velvet Room. He had no idea who she had met there or why and he had never asked and she had never offered. He saw the bar now, still operational over 10 years later.

He'd walked in and was disappointed when he saw the bar empty. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he got the bartender's attention. "Seen this lady?" he asked. The bartender looked at the photo and Elliot could see the recognition in his eyes.

"Olivia? Why? She in trouble?" he asked.

"Nah, we're just looking for her," he replied non-chalantly.

A little surprised, the bartender replied, "She's right over there..." he gestured to a table in the corner where Olivia sat with her back to them.

"You know her?" Elliot asked, unable to resist. What is the world was his partner, former-partner, doing on a first name basis with a bartender in an Upper West Side dive bar?

"Haven't seen her but twice in 20 years, but I used to. She's a good kid. Nothing like her mother, that one. Threw down two double whiskeys as soon as she got here and been nursing the third for hours." The bartender had to have been in his late 60s, thinning hair in a grey ponytail that someone looked distinguished and not ridiculous.

"You knew her mother?" Elliot asked.

The bartender glanced over at Olivia again; she hadn't moved a muscle. "Used to, yeah, she was a regular, a frequenter of the establishment shall we say. Olivia used to come fetch her mother home when she was a teenager, you know, when she got too...you know... Always felt bad for the poor kid, but she did good. Hadn't seen her for years until she showed up for the little wake we had when her mother passed. And then today."

"Thanks," Elliot told the man, folding the photo back into his pocket.

He slid into the seat across from Olivia and she looked up in surprise. She had a full drink, almost clear with melted ice sitting in front of her. Based on the ring of condensation around the glass she hadn't touched it in a while.

"You had us worried there for a minute, Benson," he said.

"What are you doing here, Elliot?" she asked, totally baffled by his appearance.

"No one knew where you'd gone and you turned your phone off," he said simply, not explaining how he had found her, or how he knew she was 'missing.'

"No I didn't," she replied, reaching into her bag for her phone. She grabbed it and hit the button. It didn't turn on. She sighed. "Battery's dead, I forgot to charge it. The case... They've been calling me?"

He nodded, "Since about 4pm, though I think Haden's been freaked out for longer than that."

She grimaced, but didn't say anything. Elliot grabbed his phone and sent a text to Fin and Cragen. "Found her. She's fine. Phone battery died. Tell Haden."

"What time is it?" she asked. She realized she was hungry but had no idea what time it was in the dark bar.

"About 8," he replied.

"8pm?" she asked in surprise. "Son of a bitch."

"What are you doing here, Olivia?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not like my mother, Elliot," was her reply.

"I know you're not," he said.

"Then what am I doing here, in this dive bar?" she asked.

"Obviously not drinking," he said, gesturing to her watered-down drink. "You tell me."

"He got the file, Elliot," she said finally.

He nodded. "I figured."

"Haden told you?" she asked, confused.

"No, Fin. He put two and two together, figured you needed some time to think. Is that what you're doing here?"

"This last case, El, it was a bad one, for me. The pressure was on and I didn't sleep the entire time. It was a very...FAMILIAR case. And I was fine, I was really doing okay with it. And then Haden showed up and told me he had the Harris file, and I'd asked him to tell me, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't tell him. Not then, not today. I didn't know what to do, so I just...just left. I figured he would call and I'd go back after I cleared my head, but he didn't call, or so I thought and I just kept walking uptown until I ended up here. Well, I really ended up in front of the Velvet Room, but I always liked this place better. Freddy was always good to me." She was running on and on and Elliot just sat there. When she stopped, she finally looked up at him. He was watched her with a non-descript bland look. "I guess I'm not done running away from my problems after all. At least this time I stayed instate," she said disparagingly.

"You need to tell him, Liv," he said. "You can't run from that. If you really love this guy, you have to."

"I know," she said.

"Why don't you want to tell him?" he asked.

"Why? Why would I WANT to talk about it, it's like reliving it every time, El. And who knows what his reaction will be...He'll look at me differently, treat me differently. I don't want to ruin everything."

"Let me ask you this Liv. How many people have you told? Me? Fin?" she nodded. He was counting on his fingers. "Huang?" she hung her head a little and nodded. "Have any one of us reacted badly towards you, blamed you, or treated you differently afterwards?"

"No," she said hesitantly, "But..."

"So if this guy is really worth it, neither will he. Plus, Olivia, have you ever thought that by sharing that, it makes it a little easier on you, like sharing the burden. I know for me, it was horrible watching you go through that, but seeing you eventually thrive afterwards, seeing you strong enough to not let him beat you, made me proud, and hopeful."

She sat staring at him with an open mouth. Finally she gathered her wits about her. "How come...how come you never told me that before?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He shrugged. "You're not the only one who's gone through a lot of therapy, Liv." She couldn't meet his eye, but looked back at her drink. "Come on, I'll take you home."

They stood and she walked to the bar to pay the bill. Freddy joked with her that he could hardly charge her for that last drink, considering she only drank a sip of it. She paid the bill for the other two. Freddy came around the bar and grabbed her shoulder, placed a kiss smack on her forehead. "You did good for yourself, kid. Come back a visit on a day when things aren't so tough, huh?" She gave him her thanks and followed Elliot quietly to the car. He had a parking ticket and she chuckled as he swore under his breath.

The drive back was mostly silent. His phone beeped as they were turning onto her block. It was a message from Fin asking him to stop by the precinct on the way back, they'd meet him outside. As he pulled to a stop in front of her building, they saw Haden sitting on the stoop. He looked up as they pulled up, a look of relief palpable on his face as he squinted into the glare of the headlights.

"Shit," he heard Olivia say as she saw the look on his face. "I'm an ass."

"You're fine," Elliot replied. "Just talk to him."

"Thanks for the ride, El," she said as she climbed out and slammed the door closed.

She walked sheepishly up to Haden on the stoop and sat down next to him. "Hey," she said quietly. "I'm sorry." She waved her dead phone a little in her hand. "I thought you'd call and I could explain and then I sort of lost track of time..."

He was leaning his elbows on his knees, letting a beer dangle from his fingers between his knees. He reached behind him and pulled out a second beer, offering it to her. She shook her head no.

"What the hell was that, Olivia?"

She shook her head, not knowing where to start.

"It's about the Harris file isn't it?" he asked. Her head shot up, red eyes trained on his face. He held up his hands, seeing the panic in her eyes. "I didn't read it, but the way your friends were dropping expletives when they found out I had his file tipped me off."

She nodded, relieved. "I need to tell you about what happened with Harris." She said it simply, without preamble. He nodded and offered her the beer again. She declined, saying she wanted to be fully sober when she did this.

"There were women being assaulted, in prison, in Sealview. We'd managed to track it to one of the guards but when we got there we found out the place was full of corruption. Fin and I were undercover. We'd gotten what we needed and they were about to pull us out when the place went on lockdown, a tuberculosis epidemic. No one was going in or out. In the chaos of a riot, I got pulled away by one of the guards. We'd had the wrong guy, well, he was guilty too, but he hadn't done our rape." She hadn't stopped to look at David; she was pretty sure if she did she would lose it. "He said he was taking me to The Hole, for instigating the riot, but he didn't. He dragged me down to the basement. And I, uh, I hit him, and I ran and I hid. He was hitting his nightstick on the metal bars and it made this awful noise." Next to her, David felt her shiver involuntarily. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Um, he found me and beat me and then he handcuffed me to the bars."

David groaned next to her, his face in his hands. "Oh my god, Olivia," he said.

"He didn't rape me, David. But it was close. Fin...If Fin hadn't gotten there when he did...There wasn't anything I could have done to stop him. I didn't want you to have to read the details on the page without hearing it from me first."

"How close?" he said.

"What?" she replied, not following his line of thought.

"You said it was close, how close? I just need to know..."

"He told me if I bit him he would kill me but then Fin was there and..."

"Oh Jeez, Liv." He sounded devastated. He was rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair.

David hadn't said anything else, which was scaring her. He was trying to give her time to say what she needed to and not react with all of the strong emotions he was feeling.

"I'm okay though. I wasn't...for a while...but I am now. I think…I think if I had a regular job, where I sat at a desk, it would have been easier. At my job there are just so many reminders...Like this last case. It was hard, so hard, but I did it." She looked over at him and couldn't read his expression. "Say something, please," she pleaded.

He looked at her intently. "You're okay?" He felt like his chest was too tight. He wanted to reach out and touch her all over, make sure she was whole, in one piece, still with him there on the step.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she reiterated.

"This last case was bad, wasn't it? It made you remember?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was bad."

"And then I threw Harris at you."

"And then I ran away." She finished for him.

"I don't blame you," he said.

She wrinkled her brow. "You don't?"

"No, I wouldn't have wanted to talk about that after the week you had. I mean, I'm pissed that you let your phone die and that you just ran out with no explanation, but I don't blame you for not walking to chat about it this morning."

Haden was working doubly hard to stay calm, to not let his emotions show. He knew anything he let explode out of him, she would perceive as directed at her, and that wasn't the case.

"Why was Stabler looking for me today?" she asked suddenly.

"Ah, when you didn't come back and you didn't answer your phone, I eventually made my way to your work, thinking maybe you'd gotten called in. And then when I found out THEY were looking for you too...Well, Amaro and Tutuola went all detective on me and they figured out pretty quickly that it had something to do with Harris. I uh...suggested asking Stabler, figured he might know where you'd go...They didn't know you'd even spoken to him..."

"Yeah...I didn't tell them either," she said.

"So Fin called him, and he swore when Fin told him something about Harris and then said he'd check some places. Guess he knows you pretty well. Took him less than an hour. I was still stumped after 8 hours..."

"Meh, he just knows all my baggage, all my dirty secrets," she joked. "Thirteen years...we have a lot of miles between us. In reality it was just chance that he found me"

"Where did you go?" he asked.

"I just started walking. I walked up 9th, up Amsterdam. Almost all the way to Harlem. I ended up at this bar my mother always used to go to. I had a drink, but mostly I just sat there. It's across the street from where my mom died and I think Elliot thought I might have been there. It was hardly more than chance he found me there"

"Why would you go to where your mom died, Liv?"

"She...we had a complicated relationship. Things sometimes seem to go full circle..." she replied, thoughtful.

David was thinking that didn't make anything more clear, but he didn't push it.

"Who else have you told, Liv?" he asked suddenly.

"Um, Fin knows, he was there. Cragen and Huang figured it out I think, plus Cragen and Casey read the statement for the plea. I talked to a shrink a while back, when things were...were not okay." She was holding out fingers against her jeaned leg, counting, a whole hand open. "And eventually I told Elliot." She pressed her pointer finger into her leg.

He reached around her with his whole arm, touching her for the first time nice she'd sat down. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, squeezing her a little tighter. "Look, if you ever have an issue, or need something, you just tell me, understand? You might be okay, but getting, and staying there can't be easy, so you let me know and we'll figure it out."

Olivia stared at him with an open mouth, immediately a little stiff and awkward under his arm. That was so much more of a response than she was expecting, she didn't even know what to do with it. She was also realizing that he truly understood what had happened to her and she still wasn't sure she trusted him, despite his words. Supportive words and intentions were one thing. Loving, physically and emotionally, after hearing that kind of thing was a whole different ball game.

She shook herself out of the fog a little. "Liv? Olivia? Did you hear me? Tell me, okay?"

"Uh, Yeah...I will...okay," she tripped over the words.

"Come on, let's go inside." He pulled her up by the hand and led her upstairs.

Pls review. Like the direction, or lack thereof, or not?


	15. Chapter 15

_Olivia stared at him with an open mouth, immediately a little stiff and awkward under his arm. That was so much more of a response, she didn't even know what to do with it. She was also realizing that he truly understood what had happened to her and she still wasn't sure she trusted him, despite his words. Supportive words and intentions were one thing. Loving, physically and emotionally, after hearing that kind of thing was a whole different ball game. _

_She shook herself out of the fog a little. "Liv? Olivia? Did you hear me? Tell me, okay?"_

_"Uh, Yeah...I will...okay," she tripped over the words. _

_"Come on, let's go inside." He pulled her up by the hand and led her upstairs. _

Chapter 15

After having dropped Olivia off, Elliot turned his car back uptown and headed for the police station. He replied to the text he'd gotten with a simple, 'okay' and he wasn't really sure what to expect. He was grateful they had said they would meet him outside. He'd gone back into the precinct once and wasn't in any hurry to do that again. There were still too many ghosts for him.

He drove slowly down the street, pulling into a lucky parking spot just down the block. Walking hunched in his coat, he saw his former boss and colleagues standing outside. He also noticed the two new detectives who'd given him a not so warm welcome the last time he saw them.

After hearing back from Stabler, Fin had gone to Cragen and suggested meeting outside and then going for a drink or a bite to eat. Munch quickly backed him up, and Rollins went along. Amaro was more difficult to convince.

"Hey, Stabler say where he found her?" Amaro had asked Fin, relieved that his missing partner had been found, and irritated at the stunt she had pulled.

"Nah, didn't say. He's meeting in 10 minutes though, going to Malony's. You in?" Fin replied.

"Aah, I dunno..." Amaro hedged. He was thinking about the mysterious Harris case that had set this off and if his partner would ever share with him. He knew he could pull the file and read it on his own, but knowing it held something that affective his normally composed partner so badly, he didn't want to do that; he wanted to hear it from her.

"Come on, meet the guy who had your partner's back for 12 years." Fin tried to convince him.

"Yeah, I've met him. Not sure I enjoyed the experience. I think I'll pass," Amaro said.

"Ah, come on Amaro, give the guy a chance. He's an alright guy at the end of the day," Fin replied. "And believe me, we've had our difference, me and him."

"What kind of differences?" Nick asked, giving Fin a shrewd look.

"Ah, you know, he was always kind of an angry guy, unpredictable sometimes. We had some ah, personality clashes, you might say. Plus I thought he spent too much time watching Liv's backside, not her back." Fin said the last part with a naughty grin. Nick's eyes just about bugged out of his head.

"Did they...uh, were they...?" he stammered.

"Nah, I don't think so, not that I know of, but look, he's an alright guy, don't skip out on a night out just because of him," Fin replied.

Nick shrugged. "An alright guy wouldn't have left his partner a total mess, leaving someone else to pick up the pieces."

"Well, tell him that yourself. Let's go," Fin said, not really giving him a choice.

Not wanting to rock the boat too much, or offend the more senior detective, Nick relented. 'But I don't have to enjoy it,' Nick thought.

Ten minutes later he was walking out the door, caught up in the path of the other detectives. They loitered on the sidewalk and saw Elliot Stabler walking up the street about 5 minutes later.

Fin greeted him immediately, grabbing his hand. Cragen did the same, giving him a slap on the back. Fin asked him "So she's alright, huh? You found her pretty quick."

Nick saw him shrug, "Yeah, she's okay. Mostly embarrassed now I think. It was mostly just chance that I found her, 12 years together gave me a bit of a hunch about where she might be, I guess," Elliot said, downplaying everything. Nick wasn't buying it. A city of 8 million people and he finds a woman he had barely seen in a year in less than an hour?

Fin introduced Rollins and then Nick. Elliot shook their hands.

"Good to see you again, Stabler," Amanda drawled. Nick still didn't say anything.

"Nick Amaro," he finally said, shaking the older man's hand. Elliot could feel the dislike, despite the dark street that partially obscured Nick's face.

Twenty minutes later they were at a table at the bar, orders of fries and pitchers of beer flowing freely. Amanda and Munch were laughing at something that Fin said, Cragen was off on his phone, managing some crisis that had come up. Elliot turned towards Nick and said "It's good to meet Liv's new partner." He opened up the conversation, hoping the new guy would bite and either chew him out or snap out of it.

"Yeah, likewise," Nick replied, sipping his beer.

"What's your beef with me?" Elliot asked.

"Look, I don't want to cause a scene, don't want to ruin a night out with your old friends..." Nick replied.

"You won't..."

"I just think after 12 years, someone who was supposed to be looking out for their partner shouldn't just disappear without any notice," Nick said.

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't have."

That took Nick by surprise. He tried not to show it, but didn't say anything. He was expecting excuses, not an admission. He wasn't done yet though, "Plus you left her a holy mess for me. Do you have any idea what a bitch she was for my first 3 months? She was pissed off at anyone that wasn't you, mostly at me."

He could tell that THAT shocked Elliot a little bit. Elliot was in fact really surprised by that. He knew his leaving had been hard on Olivia, but he hadn't realized she'd let others see it.

"Ah, I guess I owe you an apology for that," Elliot said sheepishly.

"No, you owe Benson an apology for that. She warmed up to me after a few months, plus shooting a guy that was holding a gun to her face helped, but you don't owe me anything."

Elliot still felt that he was getting the cold shoulder, but at least now he knew why. He wondered about the shooting vaguely, wondering if he was referring the time Benson had her shoulder dislocated. He contemplated what Benson was like after he left. He could only imagine the havoc she had wrought upon the 1-6. He was sad to have caused the situation, but kind of wished he had been there to sit it. She was magnificent when she was mad. "Yeah," he replied almost sadly, "I'm working on that."

Nick considered the man next to him. He seemed almost sad, not quite joining in the revelry of his coworkers, despite their efforts. Nick was pissed at Fin for making him come. He wasn't ready to LIKE Elliot Stabler, but he didn't outright hate the guy anymore. He wished he still could; it was so much easier when things were black and white.

He turned back out of his thoughts when he heard a burst of laughter from Cragen and Munch. Fin was retelling a story that as far as Nick could tell involved the entire unit trying to take down a guy on PCP with Elliot ending up through a plate glass window.

Cragen's phone rang again and he stepped away from the table to answer it. It was Benson, sheepishly apologizing for her behavior. Cragen was irritated, but couldn't really begrudge her the time. The manner in which she did it, absolutely. He gruffly told her so. He'd chewed her out many times in the past and she'd always fought him tooth and nail, but this time she almost meekly accepted his chastisement. This concerned him more than anything.

Back at her apartment, Olivia had followed David inside. She hadn't said much, but agreed to his suggestion of Chinese delivery.

David looked over at her. She'd been incredibly quiet since they'd come inside. She picked at the food that came, not eating much. As they picked up the cartons and stashed the leftovers in the kitchen, she said "I think I just want to go to bed, D."

"Okay," he replied.

"Come with me?" she asked. "Sure," he replied. "Liv, do you want to talk about something?"

She sighed heavily. "No, I don't want to talk, David. I just want to keep living my life. I'm fine," she said.

"Okay..." he said hesitantly, following her into the bedroom. He wasn't sure what protocol was in this sort of situation. He imagined he could just follow her cues, but she'd spent her life making sure she didn't give off any cues. He was perplexed.

He entered the bedroom just as she was ditching her clothes. She stood in just her underwear and he again appreciated the sight, then immediately felt guilty as she noticed he was looking. She completely misinterpreted the look he had on his face. He came over and gave her a hug and for a minute she relaxed into him. She looked up and him and leaned forward to kiss him. He felt her soft lips on his and started to kiss her back, his hands on the curves of her waist. He stopped abruptly and looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

"What?" she asked.

"Uh, nothing," he said.

She wrinkled her brow at him. "No, what is it?" she asked again.

"I mean, are you sure you want to do this, after today?" he asked.

She took a step back from him. "Do this? You mean have sex? Yes, I would like to have sex. And just because I am upset because of my shitty day doesn't mean I'm all of a sudden a delicate flower you have to tiptoe around."

"I know, I mean, I don't think that. I just thought maybe the reminders..." he drifted off not wanting to say it.

"Being reminded of my assault? Haden, my assault was not about sex, it was about violence and control. It had nothing to do with sex and I don't see why me having sex wtih my boyfriend would have anything to do with it."

"Look, Liv, you can't pretend that it didn't happen?" he argued.

"Pretend that it didn't happen?" she yelled, furious. "Is that what you think this is? Me, us, having sex, is me pretending it didn't happen? Just because I work hard EVERY DAY to get over it, doesn't mean I pretend it didn't happen. I knew this was going to happen! Maybe you should just go now, David," she said.

"Go? Why?" he asked.

"Because obviously you can't handle this, you can barely stand to touch me. You can't look at me without thinking about what he did and if that's the case, you should go." She turned away from him, ruffling through a drawer looking for nothing in particular.

Haden stood stunned in front of her. She was still in her black bra and underwear, he was fully clothed. It was a ridiculous situation in which to be having an argument. She stood seemingly unmoved by what she had said. Haden's first thought was, 'She's right, I can't handle this, I can't look at her without thinking about what he did, or could have done, to her.'

"Look, I don't want to be that guy, but maybe I am. You've had a few years to get over his, I've just had a few hours. If you doesn't need the time, maybe I do," he said, immediately regretting it.

"Fine, then you should go. Let yourself out," she said coldly. He turned on his heel and walked into the living room.

Olivia slammed the drawer she was searching and leaned forward onto the dresser, supporting her weight with both hands. She collapsed her hips onto the sturdy wood and lifting her hands, pressing her fingers into her temples. Out in the living room, David was angrily collecting his things. Cooling down his emotions slightly, he walked back toward the bedroom and looked at Olivia hunched over the dresser, wiping tears from her eyes. He stood still, not knowing whether or not to go to her.

She sensed he was there, something about the familiar creak of the floorboards tipped her off. "Just go, David. Don't make this worse than it is," she said.


	16. Chapter 16

_She sensed he was there, something about the familiar creak of the floorboards tipped her off. "Just go, David. Don't make this worse than it is," she said. _

Chapter 16

Haden turned when he heard her comments and left the apartment, letting the door slam a little more loudly than necessary on the way out. He was immediately filled with regret. He couldn't even imagine the horror that Olivia had been through. And here he was leaving her alone. She was right, he couldn't look at her without thinking about what she had gone through, but it wasn't because he loved her any less. It wasn't because he was bothered by her. He was bothered by the horror of it all, yes, but it didn't extend to not wanting her, not loving Olivia. It scared him. He just didn't know how to navigate this field. He didn't want to pretend it didn't happen, but didn't want to make it into a huge thing either. Clearly he hadn't done something right. He was going to have to fix this. If it were his ex-wife, or another girlfriend, he'd send flowers, or buy some jewelry, but Olivia wouldn't go in for that. He'd have to think of something, and quickly. He left himself into his apartment and was immediately struck by how dark and cold it seemed.

Olivia spent the night wide awake. It was like all her fears had come true. This was why she didn't open up to people. This was why she had built up the walls around her heart and soul. This was why she threw herself into her work. She had told herself for years that it usually wasn't worth it, and just when some guy convinced her that it was, he turned on her.

She spent the first part of the night in tears. Sad because of David, sad because of herself, her past. Sad because everything she had thought about their relationship had been wrong. She spent the second half of the night being angry. She was angry at David, but more angry with herself. By morning, still with no sleep, she had shielded her heart and was ready to face the day.

She was sitting at her desk sipping at a large coffee when the other detectives began to arrive. She approached Nick as soon as he arrived, "Hey Nick, sorry about yesterday. Didn't mean to throw a wrench in your day." She said it quickly and prayed he wouldn't pry too much.

"No problem. Let's just say now you owe me one. Glad you turned up okay and all," he replied.

She rolled her eyes at him. "My phone battery had died, I honestly had no idea…" He waved her off.

She gave the same line to Munch and Rollins and then to Fin, knowing she wouldn't get off as easy with him. He eyed her carefully after accepting her original apology. He was never as close to her as Elliot had been, but he was an observant man, and a good detective. He knew something was bothering her. She wasn't about to talk about it though. "You take care of what you needed to?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, I did," she pursed her lips and nodded.

"Everything go okay?" he asked vaguely. She knew what he was referring to, and there was not a chance in hell she was going to talk to Fin about either Harris or David Haden.

"Fine," she replied, turning towards her work. Now it was Fin's turn to purse his lips and nod.

The morning was uneventful. Olivia could feel the fatigue in her face and especially in her eyes. She was getting too old to pull all nighters like that. The steady stream of coffee was the only thing that kept her going.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

At his office downtown, David Haden pulled out the stack of files from his briefcase. Quickly sorting them into two stacks, he paused when he reached the last, yet unread file. "Cecilia!" he yelled for his assistant. The woman came sauntering inside, clearly unfazed by her bosses bluster. "Can you get me ADA Hyland in here this morning? I just need 5 minutes of her time." The woman responded in the affirmative and David continued with his day, the old case files temporarily forgotten. A few hours later the young ADA stopped by his office on her way back from court.

"Ah, Ms. Hyland, for this Conviction Integrity Unit, you've helped with some of the research and proceedings, have you not?" he asked the confident brunette.

After her response, he quickly said "Good. I need you to review this case for any suspicion of false conviction. I don't think you'll find any, but I need you to do it."

She took the file hesitantly and stared at him square in the face. "How come?" she asked.

"Because I told you to and I am the EADA," he replied.

"Oookayy," she replied. "But you normally are the one who reviews these cases. You were adamant about that in the committee hearings. Why not this one?" he pushed.

Haden clenched his jaw as he thought of a good answer. "Because, for personal reasons, I do not want to be the one to review that case. I am asking you to review it with a fine tooth comb and if you find any irregularities, you come to me."

The dark-haired woman in front of him nodded. She briefly flipped open the file, long enough to read the charges. She had been around and remembered the Harris case, even if Haden hadn't. She'd worked with Detective Benson once years ago on a case and the case had caught her attention. "You know what's in here?" she asked.

He looked up at her in surprise. "Yes, but I don't want to read it on the page unless I have to."

She nodded, "Haden, you could have just told me that in the first place. I'll let you know by end of business." She turned and left his office. Suddenly David was exhausted. He wanted to call Olivia, but didn't know what he would say to her that would explain what he was feeling.

O o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Three days later they still hadn't spoken. Olivia was too stubborn to call David. She also believed that she wasn't going to waste her time on someone who wasn't interested in dealing with her baggage. David simply didn't know how to approach her.

Luckily work had been busy enough to keep her occupied. She and Nick were up to their noses in financial reports, trying to follow the paper trail of a suspect. They had a guy in lock-up that Fin and Rollins had collared for several rounds of sexual assaults. It was busy enough to keep Olivia's mind from wandering back to the disaster of her personal life.

Her ears perked up as she heard a familiar voice from down the hall. Looking up non-chalantly, as if she hadn't heard anything, she told Nick she was going to look for another form in the file room. She stood and slowly walked into the other room, studying the forms in her hand, looking for all the world totally distracted just as David Haden walked into the room. A quick glance of the room told him Olivia wasn't there; he couldn't tell if he was disappointed or relieved. He walked with Rollins over to the interrogation room where they had dumped the suspect. They reviewed the evidence and he was just about to go over the charges they would file when Fin joined them. They all agreed with the charges, even a bit pleasantly surprised when Haden agreed to go for the more challenging, more serious charges.

As they walked through the bullpen together and the detectives stopped at their desks, Nick pulled his eyes away from the financials to wave briefly at the EADA. Fin stopped at his desk and said, "I think Benson's in the back if you want to say hey."

Haden tried very hard to keep his face blank, but knew he had probably failed in the eyes of the discerning detective. He was right, both Fin and Nick saw his reaction, but couldn't place it.

"It's okay," he said, "I'll catch her later. I've got her number," he said with a little wink. It felt forced to him, but he hoped the other officers were fooled.

"Sure, okay," Fin replied.

As he turned toward his desk, he heard Haden say "Detective?" Fin turned back towards the other man, still standing by his desk wearing an expensive suit with a more expensive trench coat over his arm. Haden stuck out his hand towards Fin. Fin accepted the handshake. Haden gave him a firm shake and said "Well done, sir. Thank you." He looked him in the eye. He held the grip a moment longer than necessary. Fin understood. This was not about this case. This was thanks and appreciation for something else that had happened before. The two men shared a glance and then without another word, Haden was striding towards the exit.

Rollins shook her head. "He's a strange bird, that one," she said.

Fin scrunched up his face. "Nah, he's an allright guy for sure."

"Who is?" Olivia asked distractedly, coming back from the file room.

"David Haden," Nick said. Olivia's head shot up and she looked around. "You just missed him," Nick went on. "You can probably catch him outside though if you wanted."

She shook her head, "No, that's okay. Another time." She went back to her desk and started reviewing the records again, her hand against her temple, the other fidgeting with her pen. After a few minutes of fidgeting, she rose and stomped off to the file room. Nick followed her.

She stood looking at a stack of file boxes, flipping through the first one. She looked up at Nick who was just standing there looking at her. "What?" she asked.

"Everything okay with you and Haden?" he asked.

"Offering me relationship advice now, Amaro? That's not in your duties as partners, don't worry," she said.

"That's not an answer," he said.

"You're right, it's not," she rebutted.

"So…?" he asked again.

She sighed. "Amaro, seriously, drop it."

"You two had a fight," he said, a little proud of himself.

"We did not have a fight, Amaro," she bit back at him.

"So then what's the problem?" he asked.

"I didn't say there was a problem, YOU said there was a problem," she snapped.

"So fix it," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"Fix it. He's a good guy, Liv. He makes you happy. If you didn't fight, something is clearly wrong, so fix it."

"It's not that simple. It's…It's complicated."

"So uncomplicate it. I tell Zara this all the time when she fights with her friends. You might be mad, but you are still friends, so fix it."

"Did you just compare me to giving advice to your 5 year old? I'm going to shoot you and get off on a justifiable homicide. It's not about being mad. It…It really isn't that simple, Nick. But thank you for trying." And with that, she grabbed the file she'd been looking for, spun around on her heel and hurried back to her desk.

Olivia was a master at covering her feelings. If Nick hadn't known better, he never would have been able to tell something was bothering her. He watched his partner carefully, and while she was herself when interacting with others, he could see the sadness creep over her shoulders.

This went on for another few days. By the next week she was exhausted from the effort of trying to act like nothing was wrong. It had been a long time since she'd had to act for that long. She remembered by to the days immediately after the Gitano case when every day was a struggle to pretend things were fine. At least nnow she often got a respite at work, at least when David Haden wasn't around. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to avoid him all week. She figured he was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him. She'd sent Elliot a message saying she couldn't meet him for breakfast that week. She was enjoying the misery of her isolation.

Elliot figured as much. He knew, even without being there, what she was doing. She was closing herself off, turning away from everyone and into herself, which is what she did when things got tough. He also knew that she wasn't going to snap out of it unless someone forced her to. He'd called her once and she'd ignored the call, letting it go straight to voicemail. Ignoring her caveat that he not show up unannounced, he headed downtown towards her apartment.

David Haden had finally called her on Friday night. He left a brief message, saying simply that he wanted to talk with her. She didn't particularly want to talk with him, so she niether answered nor called her back. On Monday he'd called her cellphone once and even resorted to calling her work phone, which she didn't answer. Baffled and starting to get concerned, he headed uptown.

Olivia actually left work at a somewhat reasonable hour, taking advantage to spend some time at the gym. She took her time, appreciating the steam room that she rarely got to appreciate. She picked up some food at the market on the corner and a bottle of wine and plodded down the street unaware of the debacle that awaited her at her apartment.

David reached her apartment around 930pm. He'd called the precinct and found out that she'd left around 7, so he figured she'd be home. He talked his way past the doorman, which really was no difficult task. He turned the corner at the top of the stairs and stopped short when he saw Elliot Stabler leaning against the wall opposite her door.

Elliot had gotten to her building around 9pm. Not finding her home, he wasn't particularly surprised. He did hope that he wouldn't wait all night only to run into her and Haden returning from a night out. Both men had a 6 pack of beer.

Elliot caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up. He didn't exactly know what to say. What do you say when you are caught waiting outside someone else's girlfriend's apartment? Haden didn't seem any more comfortable with the situation. As Haden walked towards him, Elliot stuck his hand out and introduced himself.

"Don't think we've met yet. Elliot Stabler," he said. Haden grabbed his hand and gave it a shake. David eyeballed Elliot and introduced himself as well.

"How long have you been waiting here?" he asked.

Elliot shrugged. "About 30 minutes."

"Is she just ignoring you again or is she not home?" David asked. He really didn't mean to rub in the previous meeting when Elliot had showed up unexpectantly at her apartment, the one that left him knocking on the door and Olivia ignoring him. It did happen to make the former detective a little uncomfortable, which David didn't mind in the end.

"Well, she could be ignoring me I guess, but I don't think she's home," Elliot said. "Why, you not know where she is either?"

Now it was Haden's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Ah, she left work a few hours ago, I figured she'd be home," he said, somewhat sheepishly and not wanting to admit that she was trying not to speak with him. The two men stood awkwardly for a few moments.

Finally Elliot asked "So she talked to you on Monday night, last week?"

"Uh, yeah. Thanks for going out and looking for her. You found her pretty quickly," he said shrewdly.

Elliot shrugged, "Yeah, well, you learn a lot about someone's baggage after 12 years..."

David chuckled, "That's almost exactly what she said."

Elliot eyed his suspiciously, wondering exactly how much he knew about Olivia Benson. He wasn't sure even he knew all her secrets. She kept most things very close to her heart, he was still learning new things about her, at least he was until he left. He wondered if this guy was up to the task of a woman as challenging as Olivia Benson. She'd had her share of heartache, and she deserved someone who understood that and made it okay, not someone who would begrudge it of her. "How much of that baggage are you willing to handle?" he asked, trying to be casual about it. David Haden was no simpleton, he heard the veiled threat. He also wasn't about to be bullied.

"Sir, I don't think you're in any position to be asking that," he replied icily.

"And why not? You're the one standing outside your girlfriend's apartment, wondering where the hell she is for the second time in a week," Elliot rebutted. The two men were now standing face to face, not exactly physically threatening each other, but obviously preening for each other, daring their opponant to back down.

At that moment, Olivia came up the stairs and around the corner, juggling the groceries, purse and gym back while she fumbled for her keys. Her brown eyes got big when she saw the two men outside the door. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," she said. For a brief moment she considered turning right back down the stairs, but she was tired. Instead she walked forward. When she reached them, she stopped, waiting for them to get out of her way. When they didn't move, she said "Excuse me," in a very grouchy voice. They sprang apart, giving her access to the door. She noticed they both held a six-pack of beer in their hands and said "Beer, huh? Whatever happened to bringing a girl flowers?"

Both of them tripped over themselves trying to explain themselves. She didn't hear their words as much as the intent; she was focused on getting inside. Finally getting both locks to her door open, she kicked it open with her foot, swung herself and her bags inside and let the door swing closed behind her on the springs. David had stuck his hand out to try and catch the door before it slammed closed, but didn't get there in time. In just a few brief seconds, they were staring at each other in the hallway once again.

Taking a deep breath, David looked at Elliot and said, "Go ahead, you try first. I'm the one she's actually mad at. Maybe you'll have better luck."

Inside her apartment, Olivia through down her bags and shoved the perishable goods from the grocery store into the fridge. She was grumbling to herself about how she was looking forward to a quiet evening and now she was either going to be participating in a fight or playing referee. As if on cue, she heard a knock from the door. She leaned over from where she was, trying to keep the floor from squeaking. She saw Elliot through the peephole, wondering how they had decided who got to knock first. She swore again and yelled to hold on a minute while she wandered into the bedroom to collect herself. Let them wait and stew awhile she thought. After several minutes she walked up to the door, checked the peephole one more time and then opened the door slowly, enough so that they could have a face to face conversation, but not so far that it was an invitation to enter.

"Hey," she said simply.

"Hi," he said back. There was an awkward pause. "I, uh...I guess I wanted to see how you were doing?"

Internally, Olivia sighed. 'What was she going to say to that?' She swung the door open a little further and let him inside. She saw David standing in the hallway, leaning forward as if hoping for a glance at her. She accidently caught his eye and purposefully kept her face blank. David's felt his stomach sink. She was either really angry or really hurt by his behavior. He didn't want her mad at him, and he didn't appreciate that now Elliot Stabler had the high ground.

Inside her apartment, the two former partners stood standing in the kitchen. Elliot swung open the fridge and set inside the beers he had brought. He pulled one out and offered one to Olivia, who refused. "Everything going okay?" he asked casually.

"Fine, El. Why are you really here?" Her tone was friendly, but responses short, as if she didn't have time for his babysitting maneuvers. He wondered if she was trying to get rid of him so she could talk to Haden or if something else was behind it.

"How was Monday night?" he asked, looking her in the eye, daring her to avoid the question.

That unsettled her, he could tell. He saw her straighten up, twitch her shoulders a little. "It was fine," she replied slowly, "at first. At first everything was fine...and then..then it wasn't." She glanced briefly towards the door, where she knew David was still waiting.

"And then...?" he asked.

"And then it wasn't," she said simply. "Things were different and I don't know if it was him, or if it was in my head, but it was different and it wasn't good."

"What did he say?" Elliot demanded to know. If that guy had acted poorly he'd punch his lights out, EADA or not.

"He didn't SAY anything, in fact he said everything right, but it was different, it was just a feel..." she shrugged. Her arguments certainly didn't make it sound as if she was justified in being as angry as the night had made her.

He looked at her. She was obviously not convinced in herself, but didn't know how else to respond. "So now what?" he asked.

"I dunno, I haven't talked to him since that night," she replied.

"Well, you know he is right outside your door," Elliot replied. "You better think of something soon."

Olivia rubbed her hands over her face. "I know. I don't really have a strategy here. My plan is to open the door and hear what he has to say and if I don't like it, slam the door in his face or maybe slap him."

Elliot tilted his head, twinkle in his eye. "That actually doesn't like a bad idea."

She gave him a look as if to say 'what do you know.' "Then why don't you leave so I can do that," she said, gesturing with her head towards the door.

"As long as you're okay. You scared me there for a minute," he replied.

She snorted. "I scared you? Because I didn't call you back for a hot second you got nervous. Try it for 11 months and see how you feel." She obviously had no sympathy and no patience for him right now. Now she just wanted him out of her apartment.

"You're still not going to let that go, are you," he said, almost defensively.

"Right now, no, I'm not. You should go, Elliot. Now." There was a tiredness to her voice that he hadn't heard before.

She didn't want to have this argument over again, and while she had forgiven him for his egregious behavior, she wasn't above holding a grudge, and she wasn't ready to give that up, not yet.

Sensing that now was not the time to push her, Elliot simply said "yeah, okay. You call me if you need anything, okay?" She nodded at him and he headed towards the door, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen.

Elliot exited the apartment, letting the door swing closed behind him. He didn't look David Haden in the eye, but did serruptitiously notice that the man was still waiting expectantly, and even looked a little sad. 'Good,' Elliot thought, 'let him suffer a little.' He wasn't sure exactly what had happened. Olivia had been puposefully vague about what had happened between the two of them. Elliot thought it was because she simply didn't want to tell him the details. Olivia knew it was because even she didn't have a clear idea about what had happened.

Seeing Elliot leave, but not seeing Olivia waiting at the door to let him in made David worry. He watched Elliot go down the hall and wondered what they had talked about for such a short amount of time. David knocked a couple of times and waiting, hopeful that she would answer.

Olivia was waiting in the kitchen for the knock, but she still jumped a little when it came. She moved slowly towards the door and swung it open, not quite all the way, leaving her body blocking the entrance.

"Hi," she said simply, looking out the door at him.

"Hi, Olivia," he said. "It's good to see you." He smiled a little at her, hoping for a sign. "Can I come in?" he asked.

She didn't say anything, but opened the door fully and stepped aside. He stepped inside and the door closed slowly behind him.

"What do you need, David?" she asked quietly.

"I wanted to see you. And to apologize. And to...I don't know, fix things." The normally very eloquent lawyer was fumbling for words.

"I warned you, D. I told you I was complicated and messy and had a lot of things that I was still dealing with. I warned you and you still wanted in. And then you couldn't hang. Why should I believe that anything is different now?" She hadn't really moved from the hallway. She didn't want to sit and make the conversation more formal.

"You did. And I thought it would be fine, but it was a lot to deal with. Apparently, I'm not always the confident guy I think I am, but Liv, you have got to believe me. The things you went through, it doesn't change anything about how I feel about you. It took me awhile to adjust. I was shocked at first and...and I guess I didn't know what to do or say or how to do any of it. You're right that I couldn't stop thinking about it when I looked at you but it wasn't because it bothered me, which by the way it did, it was because it terrified me. I'm still adjusting to the fact that you risk your life EVERY DAY, which is awesome and admirable, but as my romantic interest, takes some getting used to. I think it is 100% worth it by the way. This thing...this thing with Harris, I just needed some time to process it." He looked at her earnestly.

Olivia had her arms wrapped around her waist, as if sheilding herself from what he was going to say. "So what do I do now, say 'come on back in' and wait for you to do the same thing when you find out something else you don't like about me?" she said defensively.

"Well, first of all, you could start by not jumping the gun and assuming I'm going to hate your guts after telling me something like that, and second you could not throw me out of your apartment. Maybe give me a little time to react before assuming I'm going to run. Running isn't something I do. I like confrontation. I'm a lawyer, remember? You're the one that shies away from every little thing when things get tough."

She stared at him with an open mouth, shocked that he was calling her out on that. "Maybe you haven't given me any reason to not run."

"Haven't I?" he was started to raise his voice. "I'm here, in your apartment, telling you face to face that you, Olivia, are WORTH it. If you can't believe that, they you should just throw me out again."

She flinched at the rising level of his voice and he immediately felt guilty. He could see her trying to retreat further into herself. Where was the fiery detective that he loved? He wanted her to fight back, needed her to. And he thought that she needed to. She needed to realize that fighting for herself, rather than running, was the most important thing.

She didn't say anything at first. She wanted him to leave, for things to go back to when they were simple. "I just want...I just want things to be..." She didn't quite know how to finish her though.

"You want what? Things to be easy?" he replied. "Things are never going to be easy, Liv. Not for us, not for the two people that we are. If that's what you want, you'll always be searching because you'll never find it."

"That's an awfully pessimistic view, isn't it?" she rebutted.

"No, not at all. Just because things are hard doesn't mean they are bad."

"Don't you think that if it's right, it shouldn't be a battle?" she asked.

He took two steps closer to her. "Is that was this is? I don't remember us battling it out all too often. I remember things being pretty smooth until this latest bump."

"Lastest bump?" she asked.

He took another step towards her. "Well, yeah, I plan on there being a few more bumps. I just kept thinking about you this week, here, in your apartment alone, working and me not being there and I didn't like that idea."

She jumped in, "What, so you felt bad for me? I don't want your pity, Haden! It may not seem like much to you, with your $1500 dollar suits and your condo downtown, but I LIKE my life and it's MINE, so don't come in here and say you came to rescue me from myself. I was quite happy on my own before, I can be happy on my own again."

"No, wait, it wasn't like that!" There was a sense of urgency in his voice. "It wasn't pity, it was regret. I wanted to be there with you. And you could be happy again; I have no doubt. But you aren't happy now. Come on, Liv." He took a final step towards her and he was standing right in front of her. All he had to do was shift his weight forward and he would be leaning in to her.

"And you, are you happy now?" she asked, willing her body not to lean into him, which was becoming increasingly difficult. It was as if her body was moving on it's own.

"I dunno yet. I haven't been, this past week. Tonight is still to be determined." He reached forward and put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her towards him.

"I can't promise, David. I can't promise I'm not going to be skittish, and get scared, and probably try to push you away again," she said, her ear pressed into his chest.

"Well, I can't promise I won't be an ass now and then," he said. "So let's call it even and promise to not give up."

"Deal," she said, and sealed the deal with a kiss.


End file.
